


Harry Potter and the Twist of Time

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Mystery, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-05
Updated: 2005-11-24
Packaged: 2018-10-27 14:18:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 53
Words: 156,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10810722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: JKR's Book Seven is still years away.  So, rather than wait that long, you can read Book Seven right here...right now!





	1. London in Terror

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Just a thought before you begin.

This IS Book Seven. It follows the canon of JKR in every way, perhaps with the exception of including some adult moments which she would omit. I have attempted to gather the open plot elements from the first six books and insure they are resolved by the end of the story. I have also attempted to answer some other questions which are frequently asked or discussed within the HP fandom.

I hoope you enjoy it...please leave a review if you wish. Thank you.

 

Chapter 1 - London in Terror

Worlds apart, but separated by less than a mile, two newspapers sat on two desks belonging to two Ministers. The lead story in both papers reported the same incident and resulting mayhem…but the reporting could not have been more different.

At 10 Downing Street, it was The Times, splashed with multiple photographs.

****

TERRORIST EXPLOSION KILLS AGAIN – POLICE KILL ATTACKER

London police shot and killed a man who was cornered after running from the scene of the latest terrorist attack: an explosion that claimed the lives of 4 people attending a wedding reception. 17 others were injured, many requiring hospitalization.

The explosion occurred in Soho at The Strider’s Club, an establishment that regularly hosts private receptions and parties. According to Scotland Yard, there is no known connection between the targeted reception and any specific terrorist activities or threats. Police who were patrolling the area pursued a man seen running away immediately after the explosion, cornering him in a cul-de-sac alleyway about two blocks north of the explosion.

After a brief confrontation in which the man repeatedly yelled at the police while waving a small wooden stick, the police fired several shots and the suspect collapsed. He was pronounced dead at the scene. According to the division commander, the officers were conducting an unrelated sweep at a nearby underground station and were authorized to carry firearms due to the nature of their assignment and other recent attacks. Multiple officers sustained injuries in the confrontation and were taken to St James Hospital.

The suspect, who has not been identified, was not carrying any identification and his fingerprints were immediately submitted to Interpol, however no match was located. The man is described as being a caucasian, unkempt, about 50 years of age, with an average build and long, greasy, dark hair. His only identifying mark was a tattoo of a skull with a snake in its mouth, located on his left forearm.

Witnesses who live in the apartment complex next to the alley reported that police directed the man to get down on the pavement multiple times, but the man refused. In a confusing report, the witnesses reported that “coloured sparks were coming out of the end of the wooden stick as he swung it around in the air.”

Elvira Crabtree, 57 Pierce Court, reported that while she watched from the back window of her third-storey flat, the man yelled repeatedly at the constables and refused to follow their directions. She also stated that “the first shots appeared to bounce off of the man, and he continued to shriek and scream until he was shot several times.” When asked about this report, a spokesman for Scotland Yard said they were still investigating but that the suspect was not wearing body armor or a bulletproof vest.

 

On a much smaller desk, in a much smaller office, the same incident was reported by the Daily Prophet, accompanied by a single picture of a dirty, ragged man who moved around, peering out of the corners of the frame.

****

Muggle Policeman Kills Escaped Death Eater

Antonin Dolohov, a convicted follower of the Dark Lord (one of a group known as Death Eaters) was cornered and killed by muggle policeman, using weapons known as firearms. Dolohov was one of a group of ten high-security prisoners who escaped from Azkaban last January. There are unconfirmed reports that he was also present when followers of the Dark Lord attacked the Ministry of Magic. That attack prompted then-Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge to acknowledge that he-who-must-not-be-named had returned.

According to muggle reports, Dolohov was discovered at the scene of an explosion that killed and injured a number of people attending a wedding reception. Junior Assistant to the Minister Percy Weasley stated that there is no known connection between Dolohov and the reception. According to Weasley, the reception was a purely muggle affair.

Dolohov was originally convicted of the murders of Gideon and Fabian Prewett during the original rise of he-who-must-not-be-named and had served more than 12 years of a life sentence when he escaped. (continued on page 4)

 

The Prime Minister read The Times story yet again, quickly noticing the hidden clues it contained. No matter how many times he read the report, it still came to the same thing…and he knew he had to act. Slowly, deliberately, he turned to face the picture in the corner…the rather tacky painting of an old man sitting on a chair. He was about to speak when he realized the old man wasn’t there…the chair was empty! Now what?

Then he thought of another option and punched the button to summon his personal secretary. Almost immediately, the outer office door opened and the man walked in, quietly closing the door behind him.

“I need to talk with Fudge. Can you contact him?” Kingsley Shacklebolt just nodded and walked back out, again closing the door behind him. There was nothing more for him to do…but he had to do something!


	2. A Meeting of the Minds

Chapter 2 – A Meeting of the Minds

The meeting had begun at seven o’clock and it was almost ten when Rufus Scrimgeour rose slowly from his chair, trying to formulate his thoughts as he took the few steps to the podium at the end of the table. When he arrived, he turned and looked down at the floor, again trying to summon the words he wanted to say. When he looked up again, he still didn’t speak, instead surveying the group before him. There were almost as many chairs empty as filled.

Although the Board of Governors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry officially consisted of twelve people, only eight were present tonight…barely a quorum. As he looked, the litany of those missing ran through his mind, prodded by the nameplates sitting in front of empty chairs.

Lucius Malfoy, who, for whatever reason, hadn’t yet been replaced even though he’d spent the last year in Azkaban and was unlikely to be released soon…if ever.

Thomas Ollivander, who had mysteriously disappeared…shop closed, current status and location unknown.

Amelia Bones, formerly the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, and now dead…yet another victim of Lord Voldemort. 

Jarvis Swizzle, the Chairman of the Board, presumed dead after his home was found utterly destroyed

Although Scrimgeour had no official voice here, he knew he had to say something. He had been invited to attend and provide input from the Ministry, and now he must. What should he say?

“It is my belief that Hogwarts should remain open.” He got no further.

“You’re just like Fudge! ‘ _Let’s pretend it’s not happening…everything is wonderful…it’s just a nasty rumor spread by Dumbledore and the Potter lad_.’ Don’t you understand? People are dying, and the children are not safe.” The outburst was followed by more of the same arguments that had punctuated the last three hours, and Scrimgeour waited for the group to settle again.

“I certainly don’t believe that the Dark Lord has not returned. And I don’t believe we should go blissfully on, pretending nothing’s happened. However, I remain convinced that the best course of action is to keep the school open, providing the education we have always believed necessary to support the magical community.”

“But the children aren’t safe at Hogwarts.”

This time, Scrimgeour didn’t need to respond. Travis Toadmeir spoke up first, echoing his thoughts from the last three hours of discussion yet again.

“Every time we change our way of life, he-who-must-not-be-named wins yet again. He’s got us all frightened…and that’s exactly what he wants. And if the children aren’t safe at Hogwarts, where are they safe?” He paused, and looked around the room, his eyes stopping briefly when they met Minerva McGonagall’s gaze. “We can offer them protection far greater than they will find at home…and we can provide it around the clock. The Ministry has offered us two full squads of Aurors…more than enough to provide coverage for the school.”

There was some murmuring around the table as the other Governors considered his points yet again. Since he seemed to have the floor, he continued. “We have discussed the additional protections which we can provide. The Impervious Charm, when properly modified, will provide an additional layer of protection…and the so-called ‘secret passages’ have already been sealed. Placing a Radiating Flumux at the top of the Dark Tower will certainly stop intrusion. Hogwarts can be made safe!” 

“To me, there are only a few real questions to be answered tonight…and they are more of an operational nature. Can we find a qualified teacher for the Dark Arts position? Someone who is willing to take the job given the abysmal history of the position over the last 10 years.” He paused, looking directly at Delores Umbridge who had accompanied Scrimgeour this evening.

“Who do we appoint as the new Headmaster? Does that create another teaching vacancy, and how do we fill that position? What do we do about the students who are…well…the ones who shouldn’t be allowed to continue? Those are the questions we need to answer tonight!”

Harriet Kapfinger was the first to speak up. “And what happens when Voldemort shows up at the doors, with his gang of Death Eaters, intent on killing Potter? What then? How many students will die? What will we tell their parents? What sense does it make to take the most vulnerable members of our society and put them all together…in one place…with the most likely target of attack?”

The entire group took a deep breath…or rather a deep gasp. She had done two things sure to force a response from everyone…verbalize the name of the Dark Lord…and…raise the question of Harry Potter as “The Chosen One.” Everyone sat for a moment, completely quiet. For some reason everyone turned to look at McGonagall…as if this was a question for her to answer. So she did.

“I believe,” she started slowly and deliberately, “that the children will be safe at Hogwarts…if we do not allow Harry Potter to attend school this coming year. Without him, there is little reason for…you-know-who to threaten the school. Without Potter, there is no one there whom he needs to confront.” Everyone suddenly sat up…waiting to hear more. She continued.

“It is true that having Potter at the school would inspire the Dark Lord to consider it a valid target, regardless of our defenses. However, if Potter is not there, why would he attack? There would be nothing to gain.”

“But he could frighten people…would frighten people…by threatening their children. And what do we tell Potter? ‘Just go away?’” McGonagall considered her response and then spoke.

“That is true. However, he would also have to confront the defenses of the castle…and the aurors placed there. It has never been his way to attack frontally. In the past, he has always chosen to work by choosing softer targets…people and families who are not likely to provide a battle.” There was some nodding of heads around the table as everyone agreed with what she had said.

“Since his return, there has only been one direct confrontation.” She paused and looked at Scrimgeour and then continued. “That only happened because Potter and a group of students confronted him when he invaded the Ministry. It was never his plan to confront a group…even a group of students.” Again, there were nods of agreement as she glanced around the room. Seeing this, Minerva McGonagall said nothing more.

Toadmeir considered the silence. It was time to decide. “I move that we open the school next year…with the provisions we have discussed, with the exclusion of selected students…including…Harry Potter.” Rufus Scrimgeour sat down.

And then the Board of Governors voted.


	3. Owls and OWLS

Chapter 3 – Owls and OWLS

Molly Weasley finished preparing lunch. It was then that she first noticed the difference. Actually, it wasn’t the first time she noticed it…it was just the first time she identified exactly what was different. It was quiet. Too quiet!

Ever since Ginny had started school, the house was empty during the school year and Molly had missed the noise and confusion that regularly reminded her she was the mother of seven children. But that had never before been true during the summer holidays. At least some of the children were always home…always around. But now? Well, they just weren’t. There had always been somebody else in the kitchen…and now there was only Molly. As she wiped her hands on her apron, she found herself missing the noise…the cacophony that told her things were okay. Right now, her only companions were Hermione’s cat Crookshanks, snoozing on top of the back of the couch and Ginny’s pigmy puff Arnold, who was rolling around the bottom of his cage.

The silence caused Molly to consider her world yet again, and she didn’t enjoy the thoughts. With the Dark Lord still on the loose, and all seven of her children involved to some degree in the battles against him, she feared afresh that not all the Weasleys would survive. Ginny came down the stairs and entered the room, thankfully interrupting her anxiety.

“Mom…do you know where Hermione went?”

“She and Ron said they were going to walk up to the orchard. Would you please go tell them that lunch is ready.” Ginny nodded and headed out to the orchard, looking for her brother and her best friend. If the truth be known, Ginny thought of Hermione more like a sister than a friend…the sister she’d never had growing up as the only girl in a family with six boys.

Up in the orchard, Ron and Hermione had finally found a few minutes to be alone…and they were both ready to take advantage of it. Hermione spread out a blanket, and they immediately rolled together in the middle, wrapping their arms around each other and kissing before moving on. Ron’s hands quickly started exploring and Hermione stopped him only long enough to pull her top over her head. Ron immediate attacked the fasteners on her bra, desperately wanting to caress and kiss her breasts again. The days since she had arrived at the burrow had been hell…she was so near yet so far away.

“Ron…it’s not a race. Slow down.” Hermione wasn’t mad, she just wanted to take some time. She was still a virgin, although she was quite certain that was going to change this summer…and that was just fine with her. Ron wasn’t sure if she was upset or not, and he looked up into her eyes, searching for an answer. She smiled.

“I’m not going anywhere. We have all the time we want. I just want to enjoy being here with you.” She smiled. “I love you, Ron.” He nodded and then began slowly licking the nipples he had discovered hidden within her bra. With each touch of his tongue, they grew more erect, and Hermione’s breath began to quicken as the sensations he was creating rolled through her body.

Ron was still inexperienced, but he was beginning to get a feel for what he was trying to do when they both heard an unwelcome voice coming up the hill.

“Hermione? Ron? Where are you guys?” The voice was still distant, but clearly coming towards them.

“ **Coitus Interuptis!** ” Hermione uttered, disgusted at the situation. She had been ready to go further, and now…

Ron froze. “What did that do?” he said, assuming she had spoken a spell he didn’t know.

“Nothing! It did _nothing_!” Hermione’s voice was filled with emotions, many of them expressing contempt for the current situation. She had allowed herself to get aroused, but nothing more was going to come of it…and she was pissed! She tried to slow her breathing as she looked around, searching for her bra and top. She was nearly done re-dressing when Ginny arrived and quickly sized up the situation

“I’m sorry. I know…well… Mom sent me up here. She says you guys need to come back for lunch.” Hermione just smiled. She knew Ginny…and she knew that Ginny wouldn’t care much about what they were doing.

“Okay, we’ll be right down, Ginny.” Ron just sat silently, wishing his erection would disappear…and wishing it didn’t have to. Hermione smiled and kissed him. “Later, lover. I promise.” He smiled, trying to ignore the discomfort that he knew wasn’t going to subside quickly enough.

A few minutes later, when they all walked into the kitchen for lunch, Ron was still looking rather flushed but his mother didn’t seem to notice. He went upstairs to deal with his issues while the girls milled around the kitchen. When they sat down to eat, Molly raised an issue that was never far from their minds. “I’m surprised we haven’t heard from…Harry.” There was hardly an hour when Ron, Hermione, or Ginny didn’t think about Harry and what he was doing. Ginny had sent him two letters in the last week, but there was no response. Pigwigeon merely returned, carrying nothing. They knew where he was…or, at least, they knew where he should be. For another week, he should be at the Dursleys…until his birthday when he would turn 17. But they didn’t know if he was really there.

They had last seen Harry Potter when they left Hogwarts, perhaps for the last time. As they got on the train, Harry waved goodbye. They didn’t know, but assumed that he was returning to the Dursleys by some other means. He was cutting his ties…and what had forever been a trio was now a duet…what had briefly been a couple was now two singles again.

Ron returned, having exchanged his jeans and shirt for an old pair of muggle coveralls that were a much looser fit. Hermione started laughing. “You look like something from a…a…magazine about farming.” Ginny exploded, spraying sprayed her juice all over the table, and even Molly seemed to think his appearance was humorous. However, before he could come up with a sarcastic response, Hermione jumped and screamed. “Mail!”

They all turned to see several owls flying towards the house, a series of dark specks that grew larger as they flapped over the garden fence, coming directly towards the open window. Ginny started making room on the table as six owls landed within seconds of each other. Ron pulled the string on the package in front of him, and the owl immediately flew off, as did the others when they were relieved of their loads. After the birds were gone, they each looked around, not certain if they wanted to know what the letters held.

“Ginny, go ahead,” Molly directed, sensing there was news in each letter or parcel. Ginny nervously started tearing at the wax seals on her letter. Finally she freed the parchment inside and pulled it out, ignoring a small parcel that fell onto the table. With hands still shaking, she opened the folded letter and read…

 

Dear Miss Weasley:

We are pleased to announce that the Board of Governors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has decided the school will reopen for the coming year. Enclosed you will find additional information regarding the new rules which have been adopted to insure the safety and security of all students.

The exact date of the start of term will be sent to you shortly, along with new information on traveling to the school.

Sincerely,

_Minerva McGonagall_

Minerva McGonagall  
Headmistress

 

There was a combined gasp from all four of them as they received an answer to the question each of them had been asking silently. Ginny looked up as she put the letter aside and opened the sheet of light blue parchment.

 

****

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
Rule Changes

1\. All mail to and from the school will be monitored.

2\. Roll will be taken for each class period and prior to each meal.

3\. Students will return to their dormitory/common room areas not later than 8:00 PM each night. Bed checks will conducted every night and periodically during the night.

4\. There will no visits to Hogsmeade village this year.

5\. The Ministry of Magic will assign additional aurors to the school who will live at the castle during the school year.

6\. All secret/non-public entrances to the castle have been sealed.

7\. Several additional enchantments and protective charms have been added to those previously in place. For obvious reasons, the specifics of these will remain secret, however it will no longer be possible to enter or leave the castle by broom, or via the floo network.

8\. Selected students have been expelled from the school, based upon family ties with the Dark Lord.

9\. Students will be allowed to leave upon request by their parents. Parents may visit the school and, if they wish, confirm the safety of the school both before the start of the term, and at any time during the term. Visits to the school will require prior arrangement with the Headmistress.

10\. Harry Potter will not be allowed to attend school this term.

 

Ginny gasped, and then started to sob quietly as Hermione grabbed for Ron’s hand. Harry had been expelled! The room was silent…each of them forced deeply into their own thoughts.

It seemed like hours later when Molly started to open her letter. The others just watched as she unfolded the parchment inside and read silently to herself. Finally, after reading through it a couple of times, she looked up at Hermione and Ron and cleared her throat.

“It’s from Minerva. She says she needs to talk with you two about your new responsibilities.” Hermione and Ron both stared at each other. What did that mean? What new responsibilities did they have? Finally, they both discovered they were still staring at unopened packages sitting on the table in front of them. Hermione jumped first, grabbing her letter and tearing into it. She had assumed it was the same as Ginny’s, but perhaps it wasn’t. She pulled out several sheets of parchment and set two small, wrapped packages aside.

 

Dear Miss Granger:

We are pleased to announce that the Board of Governors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry….

 

Okay, this page was all the same. She glanced briefly at the blue page…yep, same set of new rules. Then she unfolded the smaller piece of parchment, read a little…and screamed.

 

Dear Hermione

I am very pleased to appoint you Head Girl for the coming school term. You have continually demonstrated the leadership and abilities that will make you a worthy addition to the long and distinguished list of girls who have held this position.

I will be meeting with you shortly to discuss specific needs for the coming school year.

Sincerely

_Minerva McGonagall_  
Headmistress

_I’m especially proud that you are a member of my own house!_

 

Hermione was stunned. Head Girl! She couldn’t say she hadn’t thought about it…but not recently…not since… When it seemed the school couldn’t re-open, all those thoughts just got put away. She quickly turned to Ron.

“Open yours,” she demanded, wondering if her suspicions could possible be true. Ron fumbled with the envelope, struggling until Hermione grabbed it out of his hands and opened it herself. His included the same small wrapped parcel, and she shuffled the various parchments, finally grabbing the page she wanted and handing it to him.

 

Dear Ron:

I am very pleased to appoint you Head Boy for the coming school term. You have regularly demonstrated the traits and abilities that will be necessary in these troubled times, and I am proud to add your name to those of your brothers on the distinguished list of boys who have held this position.

I will be meeting with you shortly to discuss specific needs for the coming school year.

Sincerely

_Minerva McGonagall_  
Headmistress

_I’m especially proud that you are a member of my own house! We will discuss the position of Quidditch Captain when I speak with you in person._

 

Molly began to cry as Ron finished reading. “Another Head Boy. Oh Ronnie…I’m so proud of you. We’ll have to see what you father thinks, but, well we need to do something to recognize this.” She was about to go on when Hermione interrupted her…pointing to the small bundle that had fallen out of Ginny’s letter.

“I think you may have another reason to celebrate, Mrs. Weasley.” Ginny looked down, and then stared at Hermione. “I suspect that may be…well, what is it, Ginny?” Slowly Ginny unwrapped a Gryffindor badge entwined with a silver P. Ginny had been appointed a Prefect! Molly jumped up, her eyes filling with tears as she hugged her only daughter…the little girl who had become a young woman. Hermione just smiled, albeit with dampened eyes, as the entire family found something to celebrate.

Hermione and Ron both unwrapped their Head Boy and Head Girl badges, each admiring the shining emblem which quietly pronounced them the best in their class.

“Wait till Malfoy sees this,” Ron said, puffing out his chest in his best imitation of Percy.

“Malfoy won’t be there, Ron. I’m certain he won’t be allowed near Hogwarts…not after last year.” Hermione, Ron, and Ginny all knew about the confrontation between Malfoy and Dumbledore, and it was indeed clear that Draco Malfoy would no longer be a Hogwarts student. As Hermione watched Molly continue to hug Ginny, she noticed a second wrapped package that had been in her envelope. She picked it up and unwrapped a…well…it looked like the cap to a milk bottle. Why would McGonagall send her this? She went back through everything from her letter, but there was no explanation.

“Mrs. Weasley, does this mean anything to you?” she said, holding it up for Molly to see.

“Oh. Yes. Sorry. Minerva said she was sending a portkey for you to use.” Molly released Ginny and picked up her letter again. “Ah…here it is. I have enclosed a portkey that will bring Ron and Hermione to me at two o’clock. If they wish, Ginny may come with them. I believe she should also be aware of what we discuss.” Ron picked up the lid and looked at it, and then checked the clock. They had another hour before they would leave.

Then Hermione noticed two other packages on the table, delivered by the other owls. One was a copy of the Daily Prophet, and the other was addressed to Ginny Weasley. “Ginny, I may be wrong, but I believe this is your OWLS.” Ginny and her mother both gasped as Ginny grabbed the package from Hermione and opened it. As she read to herself, she began to smile…broader and broader. The rest of them just waited and she finally handed the sheet to Hermione.

 

****

Arithmancy E  
Astronomy A  
Care of Magical Creatures E  
Charms O  
Defense Against the Dark Arts O  
Herbology E  
History of Magic A  
Potions E  
Transfiguration E

As Hermione read, Ginny finally regained her voice and spoke. “I got nine Owls. I passed them all, even History of Magic.” Molly exploded out of her chair again, and again Ginny disappeared within her mother’s arms. Hermione and Ron just smiled. 


	4. Dealing with Delores

Chapter 4 – Dealing with Delores

With a bang, Hermione, Ginny, and Ron tumbled to the dirty floor of an old warehouse. They had no idea where the portkey had taken them, and they quickly drew out their wands. The building was apparently abandoned, and from the looks of things had been for a long time. Every open space had long ago been claimed by spiders…and apparently several generations of their descendents, making Ron vey uncomfortable. The dusty windows set high in the walls allowed only a minimal amount sunlight to enter, except where the glass was broken and missing completely.

“Hello?” Ron’s words echoed in the dusty gloom, bouncing from wall to wall, each hard surface simply reflecting the sound again. “Hello?” There was a squeaking sound as a door opened on a second level catwalk and they each jumped behind the nearest piece of debris, seeking some protection from potential attack. Hermione ducked behind an old piece of rusting machinery and pointed her wand skyward, squinting to see who or what made the noise. Slowly, the door opened and Minerva McGonagall came out, looking down at the factory floor.

“We are up here, Miss Granger.” Hermione slowly came partially out from behind the huge flywheel, uncertain if she should believe this was really McGonagall.

“Who sat behind me in transfiguration last year?” Minerva looked shocked, then amazed, and then finally smiled.

“That would have been Seamus Finnigan and Lavender Brown…after I separated her from Miss Patil.” Hermione started breathing again and Ron and Ginny also came out from their hiding places. “Very good, Miss Granger. I doubt any imposter would have known that. Please…come on up.” She motioned to an open wrought-iron staircase which ascended from the factory floor to the offices on the mezzanine. The dust billowed in little clouds as they climbed to the catwalk and entered the office.

Inside the room, things were a little different. There was a long conference table, with several chairs, some occupied by others, and Hermione immediately took inventory. McGonagall was there, and to one side of her sat Tonks. On the other side of the table were a two wizards Hermione didn’t know…and Delores Umbridge! She offered her a look of pure loathing and then took her seat next to McGonagall, with Ron and Ginny beside her.

“Hermione, Ron, Ginny, this is Travis Toadmeir. He is the Acting Head of the Board of Governors. And this is Edward Lighthorse III. He is now the head of the Aurors Department. And you already know Delores Umbridge. She is here representing the Minister’s office.”

“This is Hermione Granger, the new Head Girl. And this is Ronald Weasley, the new Head Boy. And this is Ginny Weasley, a sixth year Prefect in Gryffindor house.” With the exception of Umbridge everyone smiled and nodded as they acknowledge each other. Ron and Ginny just ignored her completely…and Hermione smiled, a knowing smile that spoke volumes.

“You all know Tonks. She will be in charge of the aurors at Howarts this year. Now, we have several things to discuss, and I thought it would be worthwhile to have you join us, both so you understand the decisions that have been made, and also to supply some input where appropriate.” Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all nodded again, feeling like they were being treated very much like adults by McGonagall…and enjoying the feeling.

“Travis, what’s first on the list?”

“Since you are now Headmistress, we will need to deal with the teaching of Transfiguration. Do you have anyone in mind for the position?” McGonagall glanced at Hermione, and then spoke.

“In the past, the Headmaster or Headmistress has often been an instructor also, at least part of the time. I believe, given we anticipate lower enrollment this term, that I can continue to teach the higher level classes. And I think I have the perfect instructor already available for the introductory classes.”

“Who did you have in mind?”

“As you know, finding new instructors is difficult right now. However, in my opinion, there is already a very well qualified candidate at Hogwarts. And the appointment is not without precedent…it’s actually been done several times since the school was founded.” She paused and looked at Ginny, then Ron, and finally Hermione, obviously seeking their approval for what she was about to suggest. “I would like to have Miss Granger teach the OWL level classes.” Hermione gasped. Ron and Ginny just sat quietly, completely stunned by what she had said. Not surprisingly, Umbridge was the first to speak up.

“You want a student to teach? What qualifications does she have?” There was sarcasm dripping from every word, but her outburst was a tactical error, as she was about to learn.

“Well, I’m glad you asked that question. Let’s see how she is qualified, shall we Delores? She passed her first six years of Transfiguration with scores never less than 100 percent. She received an Outstanding OWL in the subject. As her instructor, I can verify that she was regularly the first student to master any new spell…often on the first or second attempt. Thus far, she has accumulated the highest scores EVER in the subject.” Minerva stopped, holding her ace back, waiting to see if she needed to play it.

“But…but…she’s still a student! How can a student be a teacher? She’s not qualified?” Minerva turned over her ace.

“If memory serves me, two years ago you taught at Hogwarts. If I recall correctly, you were placed there by the Ministry to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. I believe you pointed out on numerous occasions that you were teaching a Ministry-Approved course, and that only you were qualified to determine what ‘the point of the course was.’ However, in checking, I found that when you were at Hogwarts yourself, you achieved only an Acceptable OWL in the subject, and did not even take the NEWT level course. I was unable to find any evidence that you took any additional courses after leaving Hogwarts though, of course, I may be mistaken there.”

“Now, I’m certain you considered yourself qualified to teach the subject, and certainly the Ministry did also. Is it now your position that a person with a better background in a subject is unqualified?” The room was silent. Hermione tried hard to remain visually impassive, but inside her heart was exploding. Ron and Ginny worked to suppress their grins, knowing it would seem unprofessional to laugh, but wanting to nevertheless.

Toadmeir broke the silence. “Well, I think that seems reasonable, Minerva. Does her schedule allow enough time for that?

Minerva nodded. “Yes, given that the entering class will likely be very small, and several other classes will likely be combined, there should be no problem. And I can certainly assist her whenever necessary.”

“Good. Good. Well, I guess the only question that remains is Miss Granger’s thoughts on the matter.” He turned his eyes to Hermione. “Miss Granger, would you be willing to take on the position?” Hermione gulped.

“I…I think I could handle the job. I mean, well, this is very unexpected, but…yes, I can do that. I would be happy to help out wherever I can.” She turned to Minerva and smiled. “If you would like me to teach, I would be very proud to assist you.” Minerva nodded and placed her hand on Hermione’s wrist, giving her a gentle squeeze that sealed the deal.

“Now, the other open position, yet again, is Defense Against the Dark Arts. I assume you have thought about a candidate there, Minerva?"” She nodded.

“It is a difficult position, as we all know. In the past ten years, there have been many problems.” She paused and directed her gaze at Umbridge, who was still burning from the last rebuke. “I have spoken with the best teacher we’ve had in the past years, and he is willing to take the position again. I would like to re-hire Remus Lupin.” Almost everyone at the table gasped. Hermione looked at Tonks, who was smiling. She obviously knew about this. Again, it was Umbridge who spoke up first.

“He’s a werewolf!”

“That’s correct,” Minerva responded. “And your point is?”

“You can’t hire a werewolf!”

“Why not?”

“Well…well…he’s a werewolf. The…the children would be in great danger.”

“And where is the proof of that? Were there any problems when he taught four years ago? Did a single child suffer in any way?”

“But…he’s a werewolf!”

“You keep saying that! I think everyone here knows he was bitten as a child. He is also the most qualified teacher in the subject which we have had in the last ten years, yourself included!” Minerva was clearly not going to allow Delores any room to move, and the fact that she had a personal history to confront was a card Minerva would continue to play.

“Ron…Hermione. You both attended class with Professor Lupin. Did he ever threaten you or act abnormally at any time?” Ron spoke up for the first time.

“He was the best teacher we ever had. Mind you, Professor Moody was pretty good too, but then, it wasn’t really Professor Moody teaching us, was it? Professor Lupin taught us the things that we needed to pass our OWL…and he taught Harry the Patronus Charm. He was great!” McGonagall continued.

“Travis, I think there is another benefit which Remus would bring to the school. One of the Dark Lord’s most dangerous followers is Fenrir Greyback, a most aggressive werewolf who has shown a strong predilection for children. It may prove very beneficial to have another wizard who is capable of confronting him without fear of…contamination.”

“I see. Well, that certainly seems to have some merit. Are you comfortable that Remus would remain loyal in the face of this fellow creature?” Minerva had anticipated this question also.

“I am. You see, he has several motivations that insure his…loyalty. First, it is simply what he believes. He has been a most effective member of the Order of the Phoenix, taking dangerous roles whenever necessary. He has lost many close friends to the Dark Lord and his followers. He also remembers that it was Greyback who bit him as a child.” She turned to smile at Tonks, and then continued.” And, should there be a confrontation, he would also be defending his fiancée and future wife.” Tonks broke into a huge smile, and, with the exception of Umbridge, so did everyone else.

“Well, it seems to me that there is no problem with this appointment either. Have you spoken with him?”

“Yes. And he is willing to take the position again, subject to the Board’s approval.”

Toadmeir looked over at Lighthorse, who slowly nodded. “It is approved.” Minerva took Tonks’ hand and smiled broadly. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione all glowed…one of their favorite professors was returning, and they would all be in his classes. Delores just glowered, knowing she wasn’t going to change the decision. She was, however, already plotting some sort of revenge.

“Now, has there been any reaction from those students whom you have, well, expelled?”

“None. I did not really expect them to return in any case, but I have received no owls whatsoever.”

“And how about Harry Potter? Has he responded yet?” Ginny’s heart skipped a little at the mention of Harry, and Hermione and Ron both sat up a little straighter, waiting for any news.

“I am leaving directly from here to speak with him face to face. It is my understanding, given what he said to Miss Weasley here, that he was not intending to return to school this year in any case, so I doubt there is much problem there. Given the tasks that he intends to undertake, I believe we need to make some arrangements to support him and provide for his needs.” Again, it was Umbridge who spoke up, apparently still feeling she had something to contribute.

“What does that mean? What sort of support does he need? He has rebuffed the Minister on several occasions when we offered our support.”

“If Harry Potter is indeed the Chosen One, then he knows he must confront the Dark Lord himself. To do that, he will need, and deserves, everything and anything we can give him as help. However, each time the Ministry has spoken with him, it was not support that was offered, but rather a request that he become their public relations ploy…to make the Ministry look good. He has, understandably, declined to take that role.”

“I will find a way to make the entire Hogwarts staff and resources available to him. It is true that he will not attend school this year, but we will provide anything we can to assist his learning. Last year, he and Albus began preparations for his final quest…and I expect that Harry will continue that journey until the Dark Lord is vanquished for good.” Before Umbridge could speak again (and it was obvious she was going to), Hermione spoke up.

“Harry has been asked to save the entire wizarding world. And he has accepted that challenge, even though he didn’t ask for it.” She paused and looked directly at Umbridge. “You will be the first to take credit if he succeeds, yet you only want him for what he can do to make you look good. He will never, ever, allow you to use him as you did before.”

“When he told the truth, you refused to listen, or even consider what he said. He’s confronted Voldemort more times than anyone else…and he’s still alive to talk about it.” All of the adults gasped when Hermione spoke the name, but she continued, choosing not to notice. “When he spoke of Voldemort’s return, you ignored him…and even tried to silence him You, yourself, sent dementors to silence him. You even bragged about it…we were all there! Was that support, or just another feeble attempt to discredit him and make the Ministry look good?” Umbridge looked shocked, but her face didn’t deny Hermione’s claim. Lighthorse looked shocked, obviously unaware of this information.

“When he defended the Ministry…when WE defended the Ministry a year ago, where were you? Where were the famous aurors? Out looking for two innocent men, Sirius Black and Rubeus Hagrid! And were we thanked? No! Begrudgingly, you admitted that what Harry and Dumbledore said all along was true. But only after there was no way left to pretend it wasn’t true. And you gave Voldemort a full year to get started again.”

“Ron and Ginny and I, young as we are, have done more to stop Voldemort than anyone in the Ministry, including you. And it’s about time you admitted it!” Her anger was spent, but the mere fact that Umbridge existed still bothered her. Minerva sat quietly, saying nothing, waiting for a response from the others. Finally, Toadmeir spoke.

“I think, Minerva, that it is obvious you have made excellent choices in selecting these students as Head Boy and Head Girl. And, Miss Weasley, I have no doubt you will follow them next year. I believe we have resolved all the issues that require our presence.” He rose, as did Lighthorse. Umbridge seemed completely and utterly stunned by Hermione’s outburst, but she too gathered her parchments and left the room, leaving Minerva, Tonks, and the students together. When the door closed, they all started smiling and laughing.

“Well! I certainly didn’t expect that! Hermione. You really need to learn to let these things out.” Tonks was laughing as she spoke, and even McGonagall seemed to enjoy the moment.

“Yeah, Hermione,” Ron added. “Keeping those emotions bottled up isn’t good for you.” He grinned as they all laughed some more. Hermione hugged Tonks, and they started talking about her ring as Ginny walked over to McGonagall’s side.

“Are you really going to see Harry?”

“Yes, Ginny. I need to make some arrangements with him, and insure he has what he needs.”

“Would you…would you tell him to please write to us.” Her voice was controlled and calm, but her face showed much more concern.

“I will tell him everything I can. I know he feels he must do this alone, but we know he needs all of you. I will tell him to remember his friends.” With that, she left the room, and Hermione pulled out the portkey to return to the burrow.


	5. Back Home Again

Chapter 5 – Back Home Again

For the first time in his life…at least the first time he could remember, Harry Potter was actually enjoying his time at the Dursleys. He wasn’t sure exactly why that was true, but he had some ideas.

One part of him knew it was because it was all going to end shortly. In a few days, he would turn 17 and would be free to leave, considered an adult by the wizarding world. He could go where he wished, answer to no one except himself, and perform magic whenever he pleased. He could legally apparate, though he still wasn’t really a fan of the feeling it generated. His uncle Vernon would have no power over his life…ever again!

Another part of him said it was because he was finding respite from the trials of the past year and the daunting tasks which awaited him by simply doing nothing…simply lying on the bed in a muggle house. Since he had returned, he had done absolutely nothing magical except read the Daily Prophet. Thankfully, it didn’t seem to have much to report…at least no new disasters. Dumbledore’s death was apparently “old news” and there wasn’t even much mention of that. The Dolohov story had come and gone with nothing more reported.

Another thing he had noticed was that all three Dursleys didn’t seem to notice or care much that he was there. The usual confrontations about what he was doing, where he was going, and how much food he might be eating seemed to be gone. Harry assumed that this lack of confrontation was driven by the knowledge that shortly Harry would move out and they would never see him again. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia probably assumed they could go back to believing that “his kind” didn’t really exist. Dudley was probably looking forward to the return of his extra bedroom. Harry didn’t know if all that was true…but it seemed to make sense to him.

It might also be that the Dursleys were busy. Dudley was now the Heavyweight Champion, and he was getting ready for a trip to France, sponsored by the All England Schoolboys Boxing Association. At every opportunity, Vernon told his neighbors how proud he was of his son. Most responded politely, while secretly acknowledging that much of Dudley’s early practice had come at the expense of their own children. Petunia spent her time packing and re-packing his things for the trip.

So, all in all, Harry’s return to 4 Privet Drive had been very uneventful. About the closest thing to a confrontation had been the meeting when he first returned home. Vernon had followed him upstairs to confirm that he was indeed leaving after he turned 17. Harry simply said yes, and that was that. They hadn’t even complained when several owls arrived, dropping off letters from various people and Harry’s copy of the Daily Prophet. It was most un-Dursley-like behavior!

On one morning, Harry had received a letter from McGonagall, advising that she would arrive this afternoon to speak with him. She didn’t say much about what she wanted, but Harry suspected he knew. She would want to know what he had planned, and he considered how much he would tell her. He also decided he would let Petunia know he was expecting a visitor.

“Aunt Petunia?” he began as he walked into the kitchen.

“Yes.” She was sitting at the table, checking the list of things Dudley needed for the 73rd time.

“I wanted to let you know that there will be someone coming to see me a little later.” Petunia scrunched up her face a little. She didn’t like confronting “Harry’s kind” without Vernon being present.

“Who is this person?”

“It’s Professor McGonagall. She’s the new Headmistress at Hog…at my school.”

“What happened to…to…Dumbledore?” Harry was surprised that she remembered the name, but he still suspected she knew more, or at least remembered more, than she let on, at least when Vernon was around.

“He was killed about a month ago.” Petunia looked shocked.

“He was…kill…killed?” Harry nodded.

“One of Voldemort’s followers killed him. I was there.” Petunia looked completely horrified, but Harry wasn’t sure exactly why. Obviously watching a murder would be shocking enough to most people, and maybe she thought that wizards like Dumbledore simply couldn’t be killed. 

“She won’t be staying for dinner or anything, will she?” Harry smiled. It was a very reasonable question, but with significant implications for the Dursleys if she were going to.

“No. I’m sure we’ll just talk for a while and then she’ll leave. There are several things we need to discuss.” Petunia didn’t ask anything more, preferring to remain as uninvolved as possible. Harry had done the polite thing by telling her, and that was more than enough information.

Back upstairs, Harry flopped on his bed and started thinking. Where was he going? Where was he going to live? What would he do? What would he have to do? As a maelstrom swirled in his mind, he gradually fell asleep.

Suddenly, Ginny was there. She was beautiful, as always. She was smiling as she began to remove her clothes. He didn’t even have to ask. She went slowly…too damn slowly, drawing out her tease until he was painfully erect. Finally, only her knickers remained, and she turned, teasing him as she played with the waistband. They were deep red, in stark contrast to her light pink skin. Her nipples were very erect, and her breasts looked stunning. Harry couldn’t decide where to look…everything he saw deserved his attention.

She moved slowly to his side, almost within touching range, and then she started playing with her knickers again. She would lower one side, then the other, always strategically leaving the middle unmoved. Then she turned a little, not completely around, just enough to hide from view. As she did, she began to push the waistband lower and lower. She grinned a little, looking over her shoulder at him as if to say “I can see something you can’t.” Harry was dying…but he had never felt more alive!

Then, when the waistband cleared the bulge of her buttocks, she turned back, letting him see the top of bright red mound of hair that Harry knew had to be there. He’d touched it before, but always with his hands beneath her clothing…never when it was, well…uncovered. She continued to grin as she pushed the knickers to the floor, daring him to do something…anything? However, she’d done her job too well and unfortunately, Harry was now completely beyond control. He knew that ache the in his crotch was going to be relieved long before he could…

Harry awoke with a start. A quick inventory told him it had happened again. The moisture and stain on the front of his jeans told the tale. He knew it was “normal” for boys to have wet dreams, but they were coming more regularly now...this was the second since he returned home. He reached over and picked up his wand, dealing with the mess and considering what else to do. He knew he had done the right thing when he broke it off with Ginny, but this was becoming painful. He got up and fiddled with Hedwig’s cage for a moment, trying to take his mind elsewhere. Through the window, he could see Minerva McGonagall coming up the walkway. Had he slept that long?

The doorbell was ringing as Harry reached the bottom of the stairs. When he opened it, Professor McGonagall came in. She was dressed in a long, green-plaid muggle dress and carried a handbag and another parcel. Then Petunia came out from the kitchen.

“Erm…Aunt Petunia, this is Professor McGonagall. Professor, this is my Aunt Petunia.” McGonagall stepped forward and offered her hand, which Petunia shook briefly.

“It’s nice to meet you, Professor.” Petunia looked at Harry and then back to Minerva. “Can I get you anything?” Harry smiled, recognizing that Petunia was trying hard to appear polite and civil.

“No, thank you. We’ll be fine. I…can we just talk in the lounge?” Petunia nodded and retreated to the kitchen once again as Harry ushered McGonagall into the house and offered her a seat on the couch. McGonagall sat down, and then looked around. The mantle was filled with pictures of Dudley, as always. Anyone visiting the house would quickly conclude that only one boy lived here, and McGonagall quickly determined that what she observed 16 years ago was still correct…these were the worst kind of muggles!

“Well, Potter. I’m sure you have many questions about what is going on. Shall we get to it?” Harry nodded, thinking about what he wanted to ask, and what information he really expected to receive. Harry suspected the Petunia had her ear to the door, but he didn’t really care. It just didn’t matter any more.

“Is the school going to re-open?”

“Yes. The Board of Governors decided that we should offer an education, even if some parents don’t wish to enroll their children.”

“Will it be safe?” Without realizing it, Harry had gone straight to the core of her visit.

“We have made several changes, and added many new security elements. We think it is as safe as we can make it. There will be additional aurors stationed at the school.” She paused, trying to decide how to approach her next statement. “Potter, I must tell you…well. Harry, some members of the Board of Governors were very concerned about having you at the school.” Harry smiled a little.

“They can forget it. I won’t be there. Professor Dumbledore gave me more important things to do. Things that only I can do.” McGonagall was relieved, although she tried not to show it too much.

“I see. Well, that will be better, I think. Potter, Harry, the school was reopened with the understanding that you would not be attending. It was felt that if you were there, the Dark Lord would be more likely to attack the school.” Harry nodded. That made sense, and he wasn’t remotely offended.

“Professor, if I don’t attend school, and I don’t take the NEWT tests, could I…would I still be able to become an auror?” Now it was McGonagall’s turn to smile.

“Potter, Harry…”She paused. “I think I need to start calling you by your first name, since you’re of age and you’re no longer a student of mine.” She smiled again, and Harry grinned. “Harry, I believe that if you succeed in dealing with the Dark Lord, no one will stand in your way. You could become just about anything you wish. Times are changing, Harry.” He nodded. What she said made sense. If he defeated Voldemort, he could probably name his own tune for the next 50 years!

“Professor, could I come and visit the school, to talk with the teachers or use the library?”

“Yes, Harry. I think we can find a way to allow that easily enough.” Harry’s mind began to run wild, thinking of all the questions he had.

“Is there a portrait of Professor Dumbledore in the…in your office?” McGonagall nodded. “I know you can talk to the portraits, but…are they…do they know everything that the real person knew?” Again, McGonagall nodded.

“Yes, Harry. The portrait is aware of everything that happened during the life of the person. They can answer, based upon what was known when the person was alive. Otherwise, the only thing they learn is whatever happens in front of them. I assume you will want to talk with Albus from time to time.” It was Harry’s turn to nod.

“While we’re speaking of Albus, Harry. He left a couple of things which he instructed me to give to you.” She picked up the parcel she brought and handed it to him, indicating he should unwrap it. When he did, he found several small bottles, each filled with a silvery liquid, and the pensive basin which he and Dumbledore had used many times. “He wanted you to have these. I do not know what is contained in the bottles, but I suspect they will be useful to your…plans.” Harry just nodded, wondering how much more information they might contain. Was the key to the missing horcrux there somewhere? Did they contain a key to finding Voldemort?

“Now, Harry, I have a message for you.” Harry looked up, dreading what he knew was coming. His concern evidently showed. “Your friends are very concerned about you. While they understand, perhaps better than you know, what you must do, they are still your friends, Harry. And they miss you very much. Miss Granger will be the Head Girl this year, and Mr. Weasley will be the Head Boy.” Harry’s face brightened, rivaling the sun outside.

“They both want to help you, even if they are not taking the journey that you will. You need to remember them, Harry.” She spoke gently as he looked at the floor, his emotions mixing uncomfortably with his logic. “And there is someone else too.” Harry immediately felt very guilty. “Miss Weasley has written to you, several times she says. And you have not answered her.”

“Harry, I know some of what Albus told you. Not everything, and almost nothing of the last year. However, I think you need to re-consider your decision to cut your ties to the rest of your world. It is true that people who are close to you may be at risk, but it is also true that you will be stronger with your friends at your side, even if they are not physically with you. And, as has happened in the past, there may again come a time when you will need them beside you. Please think about how they feel.” She stopped, apparently deciding she didn’t need to lecture him.

“I have some other news for you. Miss Granger will be teaching part of the Transfiguration classes this coming year and Remus Lupin is returning as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.” Harry’s mood immediately changed. He was back in the “good news” mode. “Miss Weasley is now a Prefect…and I’m thinking of naming her Quidditch Captain.” Harry’s smile turned into a broad grin.

“I think she would be wonderful.”

“Have you decided where you will live?”

“I’ve thought about several places, but….” Harry decided he needed information. “Can a person be their own Secret Keeper?” Minerva thought for a minute.

“Yes, they can. However, the charm must be performed by someone other than the Secret Keeper, and that person would have to know the secret.”

“Is the charm difficult? Is there any way to practice it?”

“It is not difficult. It would be possible to practice, using information that is not important. You could test the effectiveness with something as simple as ‘where is the bathroom?’ Of course, testing would require yet another person. You would need the Secret Keeper, the person casting the charm, and someone else to serve as the tester.” Harry nodded. He would have to consider what he wanted to do.

“Now, let’s talk about how we can get you into and out of the school when it’s necessary, shall we?” Harry nodded, and they discussed that and many more items and options before she rose to leave. At the door, she turned to him once more.

“Harry, I know, perhaps better than most others, what you feel you must do. I want you to know you are not alone. It may be you that must confront the Dark Lord, but you have many friends who are prepared to stand with you. Please do not hesitate to call upon us, and we will share everything we discover with you. Remember the Daily Prophet…and use it.” She started to reach out and shake his hand, but stopped and simply hugged him instead. Harry was shocked…it was a display of emotion that he never expected from her.

“Good luck, Professor.”

“And to you, Harry. Do you know where you’re going to start?”

”When Professor Dumbledore sent Hermione and me back in time to rescue Sirius, he told us that when in doubt, start by re-tracing your steps. That’s what I’m going to do. I’m going back to Godric’s Hollow…where it all started. I want to see my parent’s graves. I’ve never been there.”


	6. Destruction, Death, and Determination

Chapter 6 – Destruction, Death, and Determination

The morning of August 1st dawned bright and clear and Harry awoke early…very early considering it was the summer holidays, and quickly showered and dressed. Yesterday, he had spent the day selecting the few things he was taking with him as he began his journey: his wand, his invisibility cloak, and a favorite picture of his parents. He informed his Uncle Vernon that he would return within a couple of days and move his belongings, once he had located his new home. He was 99 percent certain that he knew where that would be, though he didn’t share his plans with his uncle. Vernon didn’t seem to care much one way or the other, and just grunted when Harry filled him in on his plans.

As Harry left the house, he glanced back, thinking quickly about all the things that had happened in his 16 years of living there. Few of them were happy thoughts, though some were now humorous. As he looked at the driveway, he remembered Dobby dropping a pudding in the kitchen…and the resultant disaster. Once he reached the street, he looked back again, seeing the window where Fred and George had parked the car on the night of his escape. Harry grinned. Those days were over now…but they were great times, or great moments, scattered here and there in 15 years.

A few blocks away, Harry turned into a narrow path that led from Privet Drive to Magnolia Crescent. In between the tall hedges that framed it, he looked around…and then disappeared with a pop.

 

The small village of Godric’s Hollow hadn’t changed much in the last 20 years. In fact, it hadn’t really changed much in the last hundred years. In that time, there had really only been two significant events. The first dated back to 1942, when a flight of German bombers, having lost their way during a raid on London, attempted to drop their bombs on the only lights they could see.

As the first plane flew over, it lined up on the clock tower in the Town Square and prepared to release its load of death on the populace below. The place, whatever it was, looked completely undefended…no blackout, no searchlights and no anti-aircraft fire. However, just as the bombardier was about to push the button, the plane exploded in a brilliant flash of light…a direct hit by some unseen enemy. The same thing happened to the next 11 planes and an entire squadron, or gruppe as the Germans called it, disappeared. When things were later evaluated, it was the single worst mission for the Luftwaffe to that point of the war, but few people really knew what had happened.

But that was 60 years ago, and almost everyone who had been around at that time was now gone. Only a few of the old timers still talked about it, and most of the younger folks just couldn’t relate and didn’t care. The second event was more recent, and currently enjoyed, if that was the proper term, more interest. It was common knowledge that Godric’s Hollow, a community named for early resident Godric Gryffindor, was the birthplace of Harry Potter, The Chosen One. At least, it was common knowledge amongst the magical folks who lived there. For the muggles, it was just the site of a terrible double murder.

Most anyone in the town, muggle or magical, could tell you where the Potters had lived. It had once been a neat and tidy cottage built along a winding lane that led from the farm fields at the edge of town towards the square. The houses were spaced rather far apart, and the nearest house was still several hundred yards away from the site. Their house was still there, or rather the remains of the house were still there. One side was completely torn off, the wall toppled to the ground and the inside rooms exposed. The roof sagged dangerously, supported here and there by leaning walls and damaged posts. Although people occasionally stopped as they walked by, there had been little interest until the last year. Since the Potters had owned the property outright, and their son was reportedly still alive, the property was technically not abandoned, and the locals, both muggle and magical, respected that.

There was another thing that kept people away…the knowledge of what had happened here one Halloween night! The story of Voldemort’s visit to the Hollow was well known, and, like most stories, had been embellished in the years of re-telling. The muggles would tell of a terrible explosion, which had never been explained. Mr. and Mrs. Potter had perished, and their son was never seen again.

For the magical folks, the story was a little different. Some versions had him riding into town on a dragon. Others suggested he arrived with an army. The army might be giants, or dementors, or simply a whole gang of Death Eaters. Regardless of the version told, everyone magical who lived in the Hollow knew the end result…James and Lily Potter had been killed, and little Harry Potter had somehow survived, nearly stopping Voldemort in the process. All of that was the real reason people stayed away.

Now, as the morning sun started to ascend into the sky, a slender, dark-haired young man walked slowly down the lane, frequently pausing to look at everything. Harry Potter had come home.

Harry didn’t really know what to expect. What little he knew about his birthplace came from a few pictures that Hagrid had assembled for him, and some conversations with the few people who had ever been there. One night, a night that seemed to be a hundred years ago, Harry spent the evening with Remus and Sirius, talking about the village, his parents’ home, and their memories. They were good memories, and Harry savored them. They weren’t his memories, but they were all he had. Now, as he approached the house, he tried to remember anything he knew about the place, but nothing came…he had simply been too young.

At the garden gate, he stopped. There was ivy climbing over the wreckage, gradually reclaiming the site for Mother Nature. No one had repaired anything after the attack, and he was seeing things as Hagrid had, that night long ago when he was sent to rescue Harry. He looked down the lane. Somewhere…somewhere about here, Sirius had arrived with his flying motorcycle, concerned that something had happened to his friends. This must be where Hagrid had borrowed the motorcycle, taking Harry away from this and into the muggle world of the Dursleys. It would have been dark, but this was the last view Harry had…16 years ago.

As he opened the gate, he found the old post box rusting on top of its standard, the whole thing leaning over against the stump of an old yew tree. He stopped and opened the flap. There was nothing inside except a nest of spiders, but between the patches of rust, he could still make out some of the name…Potter…painted in neat black letters on the peeling white paint. This had been his home!

Harry leaned the box and its post back against the stump and slowly moved on down the pathway. He tried to visualize that night. Voldemort, knowing where his parents were courtesy of Peter Pettigrew, had walked up this path, sneaking up to the house in the darkness. Harry continued, moving the untamed branches that now blocked the pathway aside as he neared the house. On the porch, he stopped again. The door was still here, still mounted on the remnants of the jamb and leaning precariously against the inside wall. Harry closed his eyes and thought for a moment he could see Voldemort quietly speaking the spell that would unlock the door…the door that…. He stopped. It was almost too much to remember, even though he didn’t remember it.

He stepped inside, but it wasn’t inside anymore. On the left of the doorframe, there was no wall standing. The ceiling, or rather the floor from above hung low over what had been the living room. Harry stared. It was here…this was…it was here that his father had died, trying to defend his family from Voldemort. Did these boards still have damage from the spells that flew that night? If he looked, would he find bloodstains from the less-than-mortal injuries that happened as James dueled with Tom Riddle? What secrets did this room know? What would these walls say if they could speak? Harry knew of no way to ask, but he knew these boards saw it all. He stopped, willing his heart to return to a more normal pace.

Harry moved slowly into the house…towards the right…towards the staircase that led to…to where “it” happened. He could feel his heart grow heavier as he reached the bottom of the treads. Did he want to go up there? Yes…and no! His eyes began to tear as he remembered the only real memory he had of this place. He’d heard it over and over again…his mother’s scream, just before she died. She didn’t have to die. She chose to die…no, she chose to protect Harry. And for that Voldemort killed her!

Feeling numb, Harry slowly climbed the stairs, checking to see if they would hold his weight. At the top, he turned, looking through the open door and into what had once been a nursery. There was a crib…and a playpen of sorts, with toys scattered amongst the debris. He fell to his knees, completely overcome by what he saw…and what he knew about this place.

He simply couldn’t stop crying. Why did his mother chose to die? She didn’t have to, but…but…she did! In brief moments between the attacks of tears, Harry tried to reason through what she had done here. She was standing here, between Voldemort and Harry. Or…maybe Harry was in the crib and she was standing over him. Did she face Voldemort, daring him to kill her? Did she try to reason with him, even though she had to know James was lying downstairs, dead? Did she know about the prophecy? Had Dumbledore told her? Is that why his family was hiding?

Harry didn’t know these things, and that made it even harder. The tears started again, and the ache in his head was matched only by the ache in his heart. This was where he lost his mother…and she didn’t have to die. But…if she hadn’t then…. Harry fell completely to the floor. She wanted Harry to live…wanted it so much that she willingly gave her own life. What could make a person do that?

Harry had thought he knew. He had sometimes considered what he would do if Voldemort threatened Ron and Hermione when they were all together. He knew he would rush to the front…”take me, leave them alone.” But that was afterwards…when there was no real threat. When Ron said it was Harry who had to go on, to seek out Snape when he was trying to steal the Sorcerer’s Stone, Harry knew it was true. It wasn’t Ron being scared, it was…it was Ron, knowing that Harry was the one…The Chosen One. Even then, they all knew. And even though it wasn’t Snape at the end of the chase, the facts remained the same.

Harry looked up, across the floor. His eyes were only inches above the layer of dust…about the same level he last saw this floor when he was crawling as an infant. He saw a bright red ball, parked near the corner of the dresser. Next to it was some sort of duck, attached to baby rattle. He saw other things…toys from his brief childhood. Then he looked up, wishing just once more he could see his mother…the woman who had borne him. But she was gone. And he was left with her dying scream, his only memory drowning in his own tears.

The sun was high overhead when Harry finally descended the stairs. He was completely drained…and he wasn’t sure what he felt. When he arrived, he was sure about what he needed to do…and that hadn’t changed. If anything, he was more certain. His visit here was…well, he didn’t really know why he’d come. He wanted to see the place. But somehow he felt he needed to see the place. He didn’t know why…he just knew. Right now, he still didn’t know why…but he was certain he was doing the right thing.

At the bottom of the stairs, he ventured a little ways into the debris field of the living room. As he moved away from the door to the kitchen, he felt suddenly chilled…like he was advancing into a refrigerated space. He looked up, seeking an explanation. But all he could see was the friendly glow of the noontime sun. Yet it was cold, and he felt his skin goosebump. Why? Sensing there was nothing here that he needed to see, he worked his way back to the door. When he went back “outside” he was immediately struck by how much warmer it was out here, but his thoughts were interrupted by someone standing in the lane at the gate.

“Hello, laddie. Did you need something?” It was an older man, his voice, laden with a Scottish brogue, was pleasant…the tone conversational.

“No…not really.” Harry walked back to the lane, wondering if the local people paid much attention to his old house.

“Not very many people would venture in there. The building is probably going to fall down in a couple years, since no one’s lived there for a long time.” The man seemed very relaxed, even though Harry thought he might be accusing him of trespassing on a sacred shrine.

“I know. I just thought I have a look around.” The man began to look more carefully at Harry, his eyes looking into his eyes, then away, then back again. Suddenly, a flicker of recognition appeared on the old man’s face.

“Are you…?” Harry just nodded, and the man gasped. “I never thought…I’m sorry. It’s your house, I guess. You can certainly look around all you want.” Harry smiled, even though his eyes were still red from his tears.

“It’s okay. I’ve just never been here before.” Harry smiled again. “Well, I haven’t been here for 16 years.” The man reached out to shake his hand.

“I’m Ogden Diggle. My brother claims he met you once.” Harry took his hand and smiled.

“Actually, he’s met me twice, but the first time we didn’t chance to speak.” Harry was relieved that this wasn’t going to turn into another “let’s see your scar” introduction.

“What brings you to Godric’s Hollow. Oh, well…I guess that’s rather obvious, isn’t it?” Harry smiled again.

“I decided I’d take a little journey during the summer holiday, and this was one of the places I wanted to see…since…well, since I’d never really been here.” Harry paused, and then decided to ask. “Could you tell me where my parents are buried?” Diggle immediately nodded, looking a little embarrassed,

“It’s just down the lane. If you’d like, I can take you there.” Harry nodded again, and they started off, Diggle talking about all sorts of things...his memories of Harry parents, the history of the Hollow, and whatever seemed to come to him next. It was actually rather pleasant, Harry thought. A nice, relaxed conversation with no worries and plenty of time. It was a conversation he’d seldom had, just a nice little talk between friends.

At the end of the lane, they turned right and followed a little track through a grove of hawthorn trees, ending up in a small open space surrounded by a low wooden fence. The grass within the enclosure was neatly mowed and the headstones were clean and neat, many with small vases of fresh flowers attending them. Diggle opened the gate and looked at Harry, apparently unsure if he should go inside with Harry.

Harry just looked. Often he had envisioned his parents’ graves, but had no idea what they were really like. Now, seeing them for the first time, he knew this was the kind of place they would want to be. It was quiet, reserved, and simple. There were no large tombs or showy marble headstones. Just nice little dignified stones in a field of flowers and mown grass. It was a place you could feel comfortable in…if you…well…if it wasn’t a cemetery.

Diggle led him through the middle to a pair of stones somewhat closer to each other than most. Harry walked slowly, not knowing exactly what he wanted to do. Diggle sensed his unease and walked back to the gate, leaving Harry alone with his parents and his feelings. Slowly, Harry got down on his knees, looking first at his father’s stone, and then his mother’s. They were identical black stones, each with a carved Gryffindor lion on the top, followed by their names and the dates of their lives.

Harry began to sob again as he read the engravings. They were simple, factual, but incomplete…a feeble attempt to distill their lives into a few words. However, at least to Harry, there was much more here. The stones seemed to speak to him, and he knelt there for a long time, listening to every word.

They were simple words…the things parents say to young children. They were words of happiness…words of encouragement…words of support. They were words of pride, pride at what Harry had done and what he had become. And they were words of caution, acknowledging the road he must travel, but urging care regardless. Harry could hear their voices yet again, the same voices that circled around the golden dome when he had battled with Voldemort in another cemetery. Eventually, Harry took out the photograph he had brought and placed it on the ground between the two stones.

When he finally arose, the sun was starting to fall into the western sky. He had spent the entire day here. It was the first time in his life, well at least in 16 years, that he spent an entire day with his parents. He felt tired, but he also felt refreshed. Slowly, he walked down the narrow track back to the town. Just before he reached the lane, he stopped to look back. And then Harry Potter disappeared.


	7. Clausewitz

Chapter 7 – Clausewitz’ First Principle

It was dark. It was dingy. It was dirty. It was run-down. It was a mess. It was haunted by memories. It was dismal. It was everything he didn’t want. Harry Potter returned to Grimmauld Place, only because in addition to all these things…it was perfect!

The house held memories he’d rather forget. It held history that spoke of things he didn’t want to confront. It would take a lot of work to make it into someplace he would want to call home, assuming that could ever happen. But…and the “but” was important, it was still perfect. It had plenty of room. It was already concealed and protected in almost every way imaginable. It was reasonably close to places he might need to go, although now that he could legally apparate that wasn’t as important. As Harry stood in the entry hall, he thought about all these things, and more. The memories came flooding back, unbidden, as if an entire dam had burst

During his time at the Dursleys, he’d given some thought to what he needed to do. Primarily, he knew he couldn’t just start chasing around the countryside looking for Voldemort and the pieces of his soul. He needed a plan. That he needed to be more methodical was the real thing he’d learned from his private lessons with Dumbledore. It was so Hermione-like that he had laughed when he finally decided that was what he would do. The problem was, planning wasn’t really Harry’s strongest skill.

As he walked quietly through the house, trying not to awaken the portrait of Sirius’s mother, he thought about all the things he needed to do…clean, throw-away, organize. But…most of all, he knew he needed to take the one step missing to really protect himself. And he looked forward to that, both with anticipation and dread.

As he toured the entire house, he opened every available window, allowing the stale, musty air to escape. As far as Harry knew, no one had been here since the Order fled and Dumbledore had removed Kreacher. That would mean the house had been completely empty for almost a full year. He went everywhere, looking into every space and room. 

In the drawing room, Harry stopped to gaze at the Black family tree. It had more meaning to him now, as he traced over the generations of the family, mentally adding a picture for each of the Death Eaters listed there and for all the burn marks where the unworthy had been disowned. Sirius, Regulus, Bellatrix, Narcissa, Lucius, Andromeda, Tonks…they were all there, or at least their places were there. It was a tree filled with life and death, the branches and leaves carefully pruned by someone with a perverse sense of the perfect form for such a plant…someone who took the subscript Toujours Pur too seriously.

Harry hadn’t decided if he wanted to keep it on display, but it wasn’t something he needed to decide right now, so he moved on. In the cellar there was a huge pile: the bags of debris and leftovers from the Molly’s cleaning projects over two years ago. In the attic, there were still droppings and stray feathers from Buckbeak’s habitation. He finally decided he would make his bedroom on the second floor, taking the room that he thought had once been used by Sirius’ parents. As he opened the window in the room, Hedwig flew in, carrying a letter.

Before leaving the Dursleys, Harry had dispatched her with a series of letters, asking for advice from many of his former teachers. Each letter was filled with questions and requests for information. Can you teach me this? How is this done? Can you recommend any books about? Harry was about to embark on his journey, and he needed information. After he set out a pan of water for Hedwig, he settled onto the dusty bed and began to read the note.

 

_Dear Harry:_

_There are many good books about magical concealment and detection of concealment. I think the best is probably Out of Sight, Out of Mind by Lomerus Ambuscade. There’s a very good chapter on detection of Dark objects that I have used many times._

_There is another book I believe you should read. It is a muggle book, The Art of War by Sun Tzu. I really think it would be worth your while to find it as it contains many useful ideas about how to confront your enemies._

_Good Luck_

_Alastor Moody_

Normally, Harry wasn’t much interested in reading. Hermione was the reader in the gang, not Harry, and certainly not Ron. But times had changed, and Harry wanted every weapon available in his arsenal. If Moody thought this was worthwhile reading, Harry would give it a try. Since it was still early enough, Harry said goodbye to Hedwig and apparated to the Leaky Cauldron.

Now, at first blush it might seem very dangerous for Harry Potter, The Chosen One, to show up in such a public place. However, Harry felt just the opposite. No one would be expecting him, and he wasn’t going to stay very long, so the danger seemed very slight. Given recent publicity, it was unlikely that a known Death Eater would be seen anywhere in public.

He made his first stop at Flourish and Blotts, quickly finding the book on concealment. After asking Tom for directions to the nearest muggle bookstore, Harry walked out the door and into London. A few blocks away, Harry found the shop and walked in. The clerk was a pimple-faced girl not much older than Harry with a slightly vacant expression on her face and large wad of chewing gum in her mouth. Her acne reminded him of Cho’s friend Marietta, although her pimples didn’t seem to spell anything.

“I’m looking for a book called The Art of War. It’s by Sun somebody.” The girl shook her heard.

“I dunno. Never heard of it.”

“Do you have some way to look it up or something?” Harry wasn’t sure how muggle books were organized since his only experience had been back in the library of his elementary school, and that wasn’t much to brag about. She sighed, as if asking her to do that was an outrageous request.

“I suppose I could. Whazzit called again?”

“The Art of War.”

“If it’s some kinda picture book, we won’ have it. Don’ carry that stuff.” Harry just waited while she went to a file and checked something. “Well…we should have it.” She just stopped, as if that was enough information.

“Could you tell me where I might find it?” Harry motioned towards the shelves, obviously hoping that she would become a little more helpful. She, on the other hand, wasn’t about to do anything more than necessary.

“Itz back there,” she said, waving in the general direction of everything in the shop and apparently unwilling to walk out from behind the counter. Harry sighed, and started searching. Eventually, he found a shelf marked History/War and assumed it might be a likely place to look. Down on the bottom shelf, covered with a layer of dust, he found it…a small, nondescript volume that seemed unlikely to be much help. However, Moody seemed to think he should read it, so he decided to give it a go. He paid for the book, walked into a deserted nearby alleyway, and apparated home.

In his absence, another owl had arrived, and Hedwig didn’t seem upset she had to share the water dish while they waited for Harry to return. After recovering the attached letter, Harry plopped onto the bed and began to read his new books.

He glanced first at the concealment book, knowing he would have to read it slowly, practicing the spells and charms it included. A quick once-through suggested it had some good information, so he set it aside. The muggle book was something else. As he started reading, he found himself hooked. That night, Harry discovered that Sun Tzu was Chinese, had lived over 2500 years ago, and had distilled warfare down to a series of principles. Harry found many of them rather pointless…he was not going to lead an army onto the field of battle with spears and swords or with muskets and pikes. He wasn’t likely to lay siege to a castle or try to cross a moat, so the discussion of flanking movements and envelopment weren’t things he would likely have to master.

However, much of what was discussed was relevant, and Harry found the book the most interesting thing he had ever read without it being assigned by a teacher. He stopped many times, re-reading a section to decide what it really meant, and how it might apply to what he had to do.

_**All warfare is based on deception.**_ That certainly applied to Voldemort himself, so Harry though it should probably apply to what he had planned. He needed to think about deceiving Voldemort about what he was doing…and how he was doing it.

_**Attack him where he is unprepared, appear where you are not expected.**_ Harry put the book down and thought about what this meant. Up to now, Harry had only confronted Voldemort when he was left with no other choice. Voldemort had always been the one to create the confrontation, more or less on his terms. Voldemort always named the time and place. Voldemort came to his house and killed his parents. Voldemort forced Harry to confront him over the Sorcerer’s Stone, although he may not have expected Harry to show up that night.

Voldemort had made the portkey that took him to the cemetery. Voldemort had planted the vision that took him to the Ministry. Now Harry began to recognize that “he” needed to determine where and when they would meet. He needed to draw Voldemort into a battle, on his terms, on his ground. He would be fortunate to survive, let alone win, if he was always responding.

_**To secure ourselves against defeat lies in our own hands, but the opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself.**_ At first, Harry wasn’t really sure what this meant. What did Voldemort provide that created the opportunity for his defeat? Harry wasn’t sure, but he suspected it was there…if he could only think of it.

_**If we wish to fight, the enemy can be forced to an engagement even though he be sheltered behind a high rampart and a deep ditch. All we need do is attack some other place that he will be obliged to relieve.**_ Harry knew what this one meant. If he could attack something that Voldemort wanted to preserve, then he could force a fight. He could force Voldemort to reveal himself! If he told Voldemort that he was going to destroy a Horcrux, then Voldemort would come running…wouldn’t he?

There were many more, and Harry read each one, thinking more and more about how to do what he wanted. In the beginning, back when Dumbledore had shown him the prophecy, he had just assumed it meant he and Voldemort would have another duel…a stand-up fight where one of them would cast a spell that finally finished the other one. Now, however, he knew it was going to be a series of skirmishes…each one leading closer to the end. Yes, there would probably be a Final Confrontation, but it would only be effective if Harry had taken the other steps necessary to get there. Now, he thought of the challenge differently. He was fighting an octopus, and he would only prevail by tackling one tentacle at a time, leaving the head and body for last, when it had no other defenses. He fell asleep, thinking about all he had read.

The night stretched into morning and still Harry slept. When he awoke, it was nearly noon, but he felt completely refreshed and ready to start his work. His first task was a letter, which he wrote quickly, already knowing exactly what he wanted to say. Summoning Hedwig, he sent her on her way and then attacked the house. He knew it would take a while to complete everything he wanted to do, but he had the time. He could determine his own schedule…for the first time in his life he was completely in charge.


	8. Reunion

Chapter 8 - Reunion

For nearly two weeks, Harry labored day and night to clean the house. He washed, scrubbed, and painted, changing the appearance of every room, nook, and cranny. He started at the top floor and worked his way downward, filling bag after bag with garbage, dust, and dirt. He seldom left the house, going out only to purchase food, and some books on magical housework. Each night, he took the accumulated garbage out to the curb, mixing it with the discards of his neighbors…knowing the muggle trash men would take it away without question.

In the second week, he worked his way down to the main floor, and confronted the portrait of Sirius’ mother. It was a fight, with a lot of screaming and yelling, but in the end, he removed the portrait. In a book he discovered in the drawing room, he found a charm that froze a pictorial image, and he succeeded in silencing her during the actual removal. In the end, he wrapped the whole thing in a bunch of muggle garbage bags and locked it in a cupboard in the cellar, hoping she would remain silent in the total darkness of a closet.

At the end of the two weeks, the house looked completely different…not really homey, but much warmer and inviting. On the second floor, he took a spare bedroom and turned it into the War Room, or so he had started calling it. There was a table with some chairs, a bookcase containing most of the books he thought might be useful, and posters on the walls.

On the first wall, he hung pictures or drawings of the six Horcruxes. Of course, he didn’t know all of them, but he identified the ones he knew about, marking the two that could be counted as destroyed.

On the second wall, he hung pieces of poster board that he purchased at a muggle store. Each one held a principle from Tzu. They were up there to remind him what he should be considering as he planned his activities.

**All warfare is based on deception.**

**When able to attack, we must seem unable; when using our forces, we must seem inactive; when we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away; when far away, we must make him believe we are near.**

**Hold out baits to entice the enemy. Feign disorder, and crush him.**

**If he is taking his ease, give him no rest. If his forces are united, separate them.**

**Attack him where he is unprepared, appear where you are not expected.**

**The skillful leader subdues the enemy's troops without any fighting**

**To secure ourselves against defeat lies in our own hands, but the opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself.**

**In all fighting, the direct method may be used for joining battle, but indirect methods will be needed in order to secure victory.**

**Indirect tactics, efficiently applied, are inexhaustible as Heaven and Earth, unending as the flow of rivers and streams; like the sun and moon, they end but to begin anew; like the four seasons, they pass away to return once more.**

**If we wish to fight, the enemy can be forced to an engagement even though he be sheltered behind a high rampart and a deep ditch. All we need do is attack some other place that he will be obliged to relieve.**

**If we do not wish to fight, we can prevent the enemy from engaging us even though the lines of our encampment be merely traced out on the ground. All we need do is to throw something odd and unaccountable in his way.**

**In war, practice dissimulation, and you will succeed.**

To these, he had added one other saying…something from his sworn enemy. Every day he promised himself that he would make certain that Severus Snape would remember the day he told Harry how to defeat Voldemort.

**The Dark Arts are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible. Your defenses must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo.**

On the third wall, he hung pictures of all the Death Eaters that he knew about. A few had big red X’s across them…Dolohov, Crouch, Rosier, Karkaroff…the ones which were known to be dead. A few had big red circles across them…Malfoy, Mulciber, Travers…the ones currently in Azkaban. But there were many more which were just pictures…faces which Harry had memorized. There were the old timers….McNair, Crabb, Goyle, both Lestranges. There were also the “newer” ones…Greyback, Amycus, and Alecto. And last, there were some special pictures…at least they were special for Harry. Snape! Draco Malfoy! Narcissa Malfoy! Pettigrew! Tom Riddle! Over in the corner, he included a couple other pictures…other people he wanted to remember in some special way…Delores Umbridge and Cornelius Fudge!

It was within this room that Harry would plot the downfall of Voldemort!

Harry still wasn’t sure how he felt about going to the Burrow. He knew he needed to do it, but it would force him to confront decisions he had made…and perhaps reverse himself. He missed his friends desperately, and yet he was still concerned for their welfare. There was no denying that any friend of The Chosen One was a likely target for Voldemort…and he still hadn’t come up with a way to reverse that. He just knew what Ron and Hermione were going to say. He knew what Ginny was going to say, and, more importantly, what she wanted to hear him say.

As he had worked around the house, Harry kept coming back to two things that Tzu said… _**All warfare is based on deception**_ and _**Practice dissimulation, and you will succeed.**_ Obviously, the question was how to do that. What could Harry do that would deceive Voldemort? Finally, he put these thoughts away and packed a few things for the trip. At five, he filled Hedwig’s water bowl and then walked downstairs. With a pop, Harry Potter was gone.

It was like the Burrow of old. There were so many people there that the whole place was alive, a virtual anthill with people going in and out of every door in continuous streams. Fred and George were the only ones missing when Harry arrived, and they were coming later, after the shop closed for the night. Arthur had taken the afternoon off and was sitting at the table outside like the Lord of the Manor, holding court with a group that was constantly coming and going. But everyone fell silent when Harry walked around the corner from the front yard. Hermione reacted first.

“Harry!” she screamed, as she ran to hug him. Ron was close behind, grinning widely as he watched his two best friends finally reunited. Suddenly, there was a small scuffle as Ginny broke through the scrum and threw Hermione out of the way, claiming Harry as her own while everyone else, including Hermione, just laughed. Somehow, in the space of a few seconds, Harry’s entire world had changed. Molly came out from the kitchen, making her usual comments about Harry being underfed, and the rest of the conversations resumed.

Fleur was beaming, sitting on Bill’s lap. Bill was also smiling, his face still scarred but far closer to normal than when Harry last saw him. Tonks was there, vibrant red hair and all. And when she moved a little, Harry could see she was sitting on someone’s lap too. It was Remus, and he was also smiling. After some small talk, they all sat down together for a feast, celebrating…well, just celebrating life and for just a moment, for an hour or two, their whole world seemed right again. After everyone had their fill, Harry finally found a few minutes to talk with his friends privately. Ron dragged him upstairs, on the pretense of showing him his Head Boy badge.

“It’s good to see you, Harry. We’ve all been worried about you.” Harry just gave him a little hug, wanting to say things that he just couldn’t verbalize.

“Ron, I…it’s just…well, my life is different now. I can’t just go back to school…even if they’d let me. Dumbledore gave me other things to do.” Ron nodded. He knew, and yet he still wished they could enjoy the next year together…playing Quidditch, chasing the girls, and enjoying their last year of school together. It was difficult to think about returning to Hogwarts without Harry. For six years, they had always traveled together, even when they missed the train. And now, they were going different directions. Ron was about to speak when Ginny opened the door without bothering to knock.

“What are you two doing up here?” Harry just grinned as Hermione followed her into the room.

“Well, actually, we were waiting for you and Hermione to show up so we could talk a bit.” Ginny grinned and walked over to Harry, pulling his arm around her. Hermione turned and closed the door, swinging her wand to create a silencing charm.

“I need your help.”

“We know that, Harry,” they all chorused together, cutting him off. Ginny continued. “We’ve been waiting for you to finally figure it out.” Harry just stared as Ginny gave him her little “you finally figured it out” look. Hermione and Ron both smiled, also demonstrating that they were in on the secret. “If you’re all done with your ‘I need to protect you’ thing, why don’t we get down to business.” Now it was Harry’s turn to smile, acknowledging that she was completely right.

“Well, see I need to have someone help me with a Fidelius Charm. It’s not that I can’t do it, it’s just that it takes two people.” Hermione looked very serious.

“Do you know how to do it? It’s supposed to be very difficult.” She was about to continue when Harry spoke.

“I have the instructions. And McGonagall said you could do it…with a little practice.” Hermione looked askance.

“And exactly how do I practice?”

“Well, McGonagall gave me some ideas, and you could practice at my house.”

“But we can’t go to your house, Harry. What would your Uncle Vernon say if a bunch of your friends showed up at the door? Hi, we’re here to see Harry!” Harry started to laugh, thinking about that scene.

“I don’t live there any more.” Hermione stopped short.

“You moved…moved to….” Harry just nodded, not saying anything more.

“Are we allowed to know that? What if….” She stopped, thinking about what would happen if that information fell into the wrong hands.

“That’s why I need your help.” Hermione gulped, finally grasping what he had in mind.

“Can you…ah…can you be your own secret keeper?”

“McGonagall says I can, but it takes two people to do the charm. And it takes three people if we’re going to practice beforehand.” Hermione nodded, instantly understanding the math involved. Then Ron spoke up.

“If you do that, will we be able to remember where you live?” Before Harry could answer, Ginny spoke up.

“You would only know if he told you. And knowing you, he might not share that information with you.” Ginny was obviously feeling very much like the fourth musketeer, unofficially joining the club that had been Ron, Hermione, and Harry for the last six years. And, of course, it was a given that she gave no quarter to Ron, for she still hadn’t forgiven him for thinking she needed his approval to date Harry.

Hours later, Harry returned home. Ron and Hermione agreed that they would come to see him in two days, and spend the rest of their time before school started as his guests. Ginny wanted to come, but knew her mother probably wouldn’t allow it. Harry offered her a potential solution, which she vowed to use. All in all, his visit to the Burrow went very well.


	9. Two Problems Solved

Chapter 9 – Two Problems Solved

Two days later, Harry awakened when the delivery owl brought the Daily Prophet. In the two weeks since he established his residence at Grimmauld Place, he had merely glanced at the paper each day, preferring to get right to work. This morning, however, he unrolled the paper and was immediately drawn to the sneering face that covered almost half the front page. After a gasp, he focused on the article, his mouth curving into a broad grin as he read.

**MINISTRY OFFICIAL CONVICTED OF OFFICIAL ABUSE**

In a secret trial, Delores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the former Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge, was convicted of Official Abuse of her office. According to court documents, she was found guilty of directing dementors to attack a wizard who had not been charged with any crime or violation of magical statutes. The attack apparently took place about two years ago, but the evidence only recently surfaced.

The trial was held before the entire Wizengamot, but conducted under Section 13-A of the Magical Security Statute that bars reporters from attending the trial. Trials conducted under this Statute usually deal with matters related to the actions of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and his followers, also known as Death Eaters.

In a statement released after the trial, the head of the Department of Aurors, Edward Lighthorse III (see related story, pg. 3) stated that information recently came to his attention that the attack had taken place. When he investigated further, he found records that substantiated the accusation and charges were prepared. The Daily Prophet has been unable to identify the target of this proposed attack.

“We determined that Madam Umbridge, under colour of her authority, decided to utilize the dementors to carry out her own agenda, thereby placing an innocent wizard in jeopardy. During questioning, she also acknowledged that she authorized the dementors to administer a “Dementor’s Kiss” to the intended target, a punishment which is not a permitted under any Statute, even for those who have been convicted of a crime.”

As a result of this trial, she has been stripped of her office, and sentenced to a term of not less than 30 years at Azkaban. During the investigation, it was determined that no one else within the Ministry had any knowledge of the order for the attack and that the wizard in question was not injured.

 

Harry quickly paged through the rest of the paper, searching for anything else that looked interesting, including the Wands for Sale section. There was only one little note, tucked away on the bottom of page three.

**MINISTER APPOINTS NEW DEPARTMENT HEAD**

Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour has announced the permanent appointment of Edward Lighthorse III as head of the Department of Aurors. Lighthorse had previously been appointed Acting Department Head after the disappearance of Gawain Robards. Robards held the office for one year, and was appointed when Scrimgeour became Minister of Magic.

 

Harry tried hard to suppress his mirth as he picked up his wand and danced into the War Room. With a grand flourish, he faced the wall and spoke, his wand sending a jet of red towards a picture on the wall. Then he stood back and admired his handiwork. Another face was covered with a large red circle. Umbridge had finally got her comeuppance! All things considered, it was a great day, and he had only just gotten out of bed!

After a quick meal, Harry wandered the house, cleaning this and that. He knew Ron and Hermione should be arriving soon, and he wanted them to be impressed with his work to this point. A few minutes before ten, Harry was back in the War Room, reading more about the Fidelius Charm when he heard a pair of pops downstairs. With wand in hand, he cautiously made his way to the stairs. He could see nothing from the second floor, and quietly descended to the landing, peering carefully around the banister to observe. Even from there he couldn’t see anyone, and slowly continued his descent, softly placing each foot on the treads…making no noise whatsoever. As he neared the floor, he started to hear a whispered conversation in the drawing room.

“Where are we?”

“I dunno.”

“We can’t have done it wrong, or we wouldn’t have ended up together. But I don’t recognize this place.”

“Well, there’s the family tree thingy.” Harry grinned a little and walked around the corner, greeting Ron and Hermione as they stood in the middle of the room with their wands drawn.

“I guess that means you like my redecorating.” Both Ron and Hermione jumped at the sound of his voice and Hermione pointed her wand directly at him.

“If you’re really Harry, who sent you the Firebolt?” Now Harry’s grin grew even wider.

“That would be Sirius Black, the famous Azkaban escapee.” Hermione lowered her wand and came running at him, grabbing him in a gigantic hug.

“Harry! Is this really the same house?” 

“Good to see you again, mate. I don’t even recognize this place.”

“Well, I have been busy here. Since it’s my house, I decided to change it to what I wanted.” With that, Harry took them on a complete tour.

“Where’s Sirius’ Mother?”

“Oh, her. Well…she’s taken up residence down in the cellar. Seems she couldn’t stand the thought of the house passing to a wizard not completely dedicated to purity of the race, and since we didn’t seem likely to agree about things, I suggested she get her own room.” Hermione started to laugh, but Ron just stared…the humor going completely over his head. “And here’s the War Room. At least, that’s what I call it.” They walked in and tried to absorb everything he had assembled.

Ron walked over to the picture wall, studying the various people displayed. “Who are these two?”

“I’m not really sure. They were with Malfoy the night….” Harry’s voice broke a little as he thought about Dumbledore’s death. “They came upstairs with Greyback. Dumbledore knew them…called them Amycus and Alecto. I assume they are related, but I’m not sure yet. I assume they are other Death Eaters.”

“Where’d you get the pictures?”

“Oh…well, I just generated them from my memories. You can do that if you have a pensive.” Hermione turned from her investigation of his library.

“Do you have a pensive, Harry?” She had never really seen one, although Harry had described Dumbledore’s many times.

“Yeah. Well, I have Dumbledore’s. He left it to me.” Ron just whistled, thinking that a pensive would be a neat thing to have.

“Harry? What does this mean?” Hermione said, pointing at the picture of Umbridge. He picked up the Daily Prophet and tossed it to her. She read, with Ron hunched over her shoulder, her face beaming as she recognized what had happened…and how!

“See, Hermione. Like I said, you shouldn’t keep those things bottled up. Look what happens when you let your feelings out.” She just turned and gave Ron a big, sloppy kiss. Then she turned back to Harry.

“Harry. We need to do the charm. We need to try that right away, in case…in case it…doesn’t work.” Harry nodded. He had been living somewhat dangerously for the past weeks, knowing that his secret was not adequately protected. It was a danger he accepted, but he needed to address the problem.

“Do you want to try it now?” Hermione nodded, and Harry moved to the table, showing her the pages that described the charm and the appropriate wand movement. She pulled out her wand and started sky writing, practicing what the diagram described while muttering under her breath. After a couple minutes, she looked up and smiled.

“Shall we give it a try?” Harry nodded and picked up a piece of parchment that he had prepared. Without a word, he showed Hermione what was written. She nodded, and then he stood in front of her, holding the parchment in his right hand…his wand hand. Hermione raised her wand and spoke.

“ ** _Fidelius Insiptum Confundis!_** ” According to the book, there should have been a blue streak from her wand, but nothing appeared. Harry shook his head, indicating he felt nothing, so she tried again. Again, nothing happened, and a slight fear began to run through her veins. What if she couldn’t do it? McGonagall had said she could…but what if she couldn’t?

She stopped and consulted the book again, swinging the wand very carefully while reading the words. “I think I was pronouncing it wrong,” she said after reading the incantation again. Harry could see her lips moving as she practiced again, moving her mouth very deliberately. “Okay, let’s try it again.” Harry held the parchment out again, and she took a deep breath.

“ ** _Fidelius Inseptum Confundis!_** ” A streak of light flew from her wand, wrapping Harry’s hand in a bluish glow that lasted for several seconds. Harry’s eyes went wide. It didn’t hurt, but it did feel…well…very odd. He couldn’t decide if the feeling was hot or cold…it felt like both at the same time. Harry looked up when the glow disappeared, wondering if it had worked.

“Ron, tell me where the bathroom is, would you?” Ron looked at him like it was the dumbest question he had ever heard.

“It’s…well…it’s right.…” He stopped. He had lived here…but he couldn’t remember where the bathroom was. No, that wasn’t right. He knew where it was, but he couldn’t tell Harry. He felt very stupid. “I can’t tell you, Harry. I don’t know why, but I can’t tell you.”

“Can you take me there?” Ron nodded, starting out the door. Once in the hall, he looked right and left, but didn’t go anywhere.

“This is stupid, Harry. I don’t know which way to go.” He became frustrated. “I lived here…but I can’t remember where the bathroom is! How stupid is that?” He turned around to see Harry start to smile. “I…I don’t know. I’m sure there’s one here…somewhere.” Harry started laughing as Hermione came over, her face split by a big grin.

“Should we tell him, Harry?” Now that the spell had worked, Hermione thought the test was very funny, and she was laughing too.

“Nah. He doesn’t need to know right now. Maybe later.” Ron just glared.

“What did you guys do to me?”

“That was the test, Ron. Until we reverse it, no one will know where the bathroom is unless I tell them.” Ron was happy the spell worked, but he still felt he’d been victimized somehow. They all walked back into the room, and Harry picked up another piece of parchment and showed it to Hermione.

_****_

Harry Potter’s home is located at 12 Grimmauld Place

.

Harry stood very still, clasping the parchment in his hand as Hermione spoke the spell. Again her words encased his hand in the bluish glow of the spell.

“Ron, do you know where Harry lives?” Ron scrunched up his face, as if trying to recall something he heard once in class.

“I dunno. I used to know…but now I’m not certain. I’ve been there…lots of times. But I can’t remember the address.” Hermione smiled and walked over to Harry, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“I think you should tell him this one. He will need to know.” Harry smiled and handed Ron the parchment.

“Did it work?”

“I think so, Ron. You knew the address before, so I think it worked just fine.”

“Harry, Ginny said something about coming to see us. But if we’ve done this, how can she get here?”

“Don’t worry, Ron. The portkey I gave her won’t be affected by this. Ginny’s only problem will be convincing your mother that she should be allowed to come.” Hermione laughed.

“She’s already done that Harry. At first she asked, but Molly told her she wasn’t old enough…and it was too dangerous. Then they argued for a while…it got pretty intense. Then…she just told Molly she was going, with or without permission. You know how she gets when she decided something.” Harry’s eyes went wide.

“When is she coming?”

“Well, I told her to give us a couple of hours, just in case there was a problem.” Hermione looked at her watch. “If we don’t return to the Burrow shortly, then she’ll be coming along real soon. Knowing Ginny, I doubt she’ll wait the full two hours.” Harry’s heart gave a little lurch, thinking that Ginny would soon be joining them…well, joining him. Harry picked up the book and parchments and put them away. He had suddenly become a bit of a “neatness freak” after spending so much time cleaning. Hermione walked over to the wall and started reading the posters.

“What are these, Harry?”

“They’re quotes…from a book that Moody suggested I should read. It’s about conducting a war. It’s a muggle book by an old Chinese guy, and I wasn’t very impressed with the idea until I started reading it.” He motioned to the wall. “These are from the book…the principles that he said to follow.”

“ _ **All warfare is based on deception**_ ,” she read aloud, and then moved on. “ ** _Attack him where he is unprepared, appear where you are not expected_**. Harry, these are great. Why did you put them up here?”

“I’m calling this the War Room. I know I need to have a plan, so this is where I’m going to plan what I’m going to do. And these are things I want to remember as I plan.” Hermione continued to read, amazed at what Harry had found.

“This one came from Snape, didn’t it?”

“Yep. He said that at the beginning of classes last year…just before he gave me detention.” She grinned.

“Well, you were being a bit cheeky, Harry.” Harry looked very disgusted.

“What! Are you taking his side?” She shook her head.

“No. It’s just…well, it was probably the one time when you actually deserved some sort of discipline. Not detention, but…well, telling him he didn’t need to call you ‘Sir’ was probably a bit much.” Harry grinned too, knowing she was right, but nevertheless, he had still enjoyed the moment. Her face had turned serious again.

“What have you planned Harry?” Harry started to respond, but Ron came back in the room.

“Harry, I’ve looked everywhere. I know it sounds funny, but I don’t think there is a bathroom in this house…at least not any more.” Harry and Hermione looked at each other, and then started laughing, nearly falling to the floor as wave after wave of giggles attacked them. Ron still didn’t understand. Hermione finally regained control.

“It’s okay. Ron. Harry will work something out for you.” She was still giggling when they all froze.

“Hey, where are you guys?” It was Ginny’s voice, coming from down the hall, and Harry quickly drew his wand. Almost immediately, Ginny came around the corner and stopped, confronted by her brother and friends all looking very serious.

“Who opened the Chamber of Secrets?” Ginny just stared as Harry pointed his wand at her. “Who opened the Chamber of Secrets?”

‘I did,” she said in a soft, quaking little voice that sounded very unlike Ginny Weasley. Harry immediately lowered his wand and ran to her, taking her in his arms.

“It’s okay, Ginny. I just had to check.” She snuggled closer, missing his embrace even more than ever before, and he kissed her gently. “I have something to show you,” he said as he opened his arms and pulled her to the table. “You need to memorize this,” he said, handing her the parchment with his address on it.

“You did the spell, didn’t you?” Hermione nodded. “Did it work?”

“Yes, Ginny. There are only four people who know where I live…and you can’t tell anyone. Only I can.” Ginny smiled, knowing now that Harry Potter was truly safe. Then she looked around.

“But…this isn’t the same house we stayed in before. Did you rebuild it or something?”

“Nope. It’s the same place, Ginny. I just cleaned it up and did some remodeling. Would you like to see the rest of it?” She nodded, and Harry led her off to a private tour, pausing from time to time for a little snogging and groping. When they returned to the War Room, Hermione and Ron were both engrossed in Harry’s collection of books and information.

“Harry, do you know where the other Horcruxes are?” He shook his head.

“I haven’t really started working on that yet, but I have a couple of ideas I want to explore. There’s a couple I can’t account for, and I have no idea what happened to the cup or the locket.” Hermione looked up from the table, her face a complete mystery.

“It seems like…I don’t know…like we should know some of this.”

“Well, maybe we do,” Harry said as he walked further into the room. “But at least right now, I haven’t got anything more to go on. We’ll talk about it later. After lunch.”

“Harry?” He turned to look at Ginny, still standing by the door.

“Hmmmm.”

“Where’s the bathroom? I can’t remember.” Harry just smiled.

“Why don’t you ask Ron?”


	10. A Council of War

Chapter 10 – A Council of War

They left the lunch table full and satisfied. Harry took a large bowl of fruit and some drinks upstairs and the first Council of War convened.

“As I see it, there’s really three things I have to do. First, I need to eliminate the Horcruxes…all of them. Then I need to confront Voldemort. And finally, I need to deal with the Death Eaters. I might get some of them along the way, but they’re really secondary to everything else.” The other three nodded, agreeing with his list and his priorities.

“I’m not sure how much I’ve told each of you, so let me run through the whole Horcrux thing. Most of this is stuff I learned with Dumbledore last year. So….”

“In his sixth year, Tom Riddle approached Slughorn and asked him about Horcruxes. Slughorn told him that a Horcrux is used to store a part of a wizard’s soul. He didn’t know the spell to do it, or at least he said he didn’t. Now, you can only create a Horcrux _after_ the soul has been torn, and Slughorn told him the only way to tear the soul was to commit a murder. Then Riddle asked him whether a wizard could create more than one Horcrux.”

“Slughorn was really upset by that. He told Riddle that it would be terrible to commit even one murder, let alone more. Riddle asked if seven Horcruxes wouldn’t be better, since seven is such a powerful number. Slughorn really went off on him; told him he was nuts. He told him to forget it, but we know he didn’t. Riddle decided to create his Horcruxes, probably six of them, as a way of becoming immortal…if one Voldemort was killed, there would always be another one ready to step in. His plan was to end up with his soul in seven pieces.”

Harry paused, and Ginny looked very scared. She hadn’t really heard all of this before, and the task waiting for Harry was getting bigger and bigger…and much harder!

“So, later in the year, Tom Riddle, who was the last descendent of Salazar Slytherin, opened the Chamber of Secrets and tried to continue Slytherin’s goal of ridding the school of muggle-borns. However, he knew somebody, most likely Dumbledore, would figure out that it was him, especially after he turned the basilisk loose and killed Myrtle. Plus, they were considering closing the school, so he wouldn’t accomplish anything more. He decided to create his first Horcrux, and also provide a way to open the Chamber again some time.” Harry walked over to the wall and pointed. “His first Horcrux was the diary, created when he killed Myrtle.” They all nodded. The story of the diary was something they all knew in detail.

“How did Lucius Malfoy end up with it? They weren’t in school together.”

“I don’t know for sure, but at some point, Voldemort must have given it to him to keep. It wouldn’t make any sense to keep them all together. If one was discovered, then they all could be captured at the same time…so he must have decided to hide them separately. But remember…he had to tell somebody about them…so they could recover one if something happened to the ‘original’ Voldemort. Somebody has to know where each one is.”

Hermione spoke up. “Do you think that Lucius knows where they are?”

“No, I don’t think that’s likely. For two reasons. First, Voldemort doesn’t trust anybody that much. Dumbledore kept reminding me that Voldemort doesn’t let anybody get close to him; that even the Death Eaters who claim to be his confidant probably aren’t. He’s never let anyone get close…ever. But the second reason is more important. What happens if Lucius were killed or captured? If he was the only one who knew where they all were, then they might as well not exist. I’m pretty sure that somebody different knows about each one, or maybe two people know. He would spread the knowledge around so there would always be somebody available to insure his re-birth.”

“Anyway, Riddle wanted to make his soul into seven parts, so he had more work to do.” Harry pointed at the picture of the ring. “Voldemort liked to collect things…souvenirs of his adventures and exploits. Between his sixth and seventh year, he returned to the home of his mother’s family, the Gaunts and found the opportunity to collect another souvenir…and make another Horcrux. He met his uncle Morfin, a broken-down old man living in the poverty of what was left of the Gaunt legacy. The only thing Morfin had left was Slytherin’s Ring, and Riddle wanted it. He also wanted to avenge his mother and retaliate against his father…the father who provided his common, mudblood name. Riddle took Morfin’s wand and killed his father and his grandparents, and then used those killings to create the second Horcrux…Morfin’s Slytherin ring.”

“Did he kill Morfin too?”

“No. Riddle modified his memory so Morfin would confess to the killings, and the wand confirmed his guilt. Given all the history, Morfin looked quite capable of doing it, so he was sent to Azkaban where he died. Dumbledore found the ring concealed in the wreckage of Morfin’s house. It was the protective charms on the ring that destroyed Dumbledore’s hand last year.” Hermione got up and wandered over to the picture of the ring.

“Where’s the ring now?”

“I don’t know. Dumbledore had it, but then later it was gone. He said the Horcrux was destroyed, so I think that piece of Riddle’s soul was destroyed. Anyway, Dumbledore said it was gone.”

“So, now Riddle needed to make four more, and he apparently decided that he would like to make each of them really memorable. Dumbledore wasn’t sure, but he thought that Tom wanted to use something belonging to each of the four founders of Hogwarts.” Ron spoke up for the first time.

“But Harry, he’d already used something from Slytherin.”

“Not really. It’s true that the ring belonged to the descendents of Slytherin, but there was no proof that it ever was actually owned by Slytherin. Riddle wanted the real thing, and he got it.” Harry started to tell the story, and then stopped.

“It’s not real important how he did it, but I saw him collect a golden cup that belonged to Hufflepuff…and a locket that belonged to Slytherin. So at some point, those became two more Horcruxes.”

“That leaves two more to find…Ravenclaw and Gryffindor.”

“That’s what Dumbledore thought, but he also said that the Voldemort’s snake might be a Horcrux. He seemed to think that the snake was very strange, even though it’s not a good idea to use a living creature as a Horcrux.”

“Well, he used Quirrell, didn’t he?” Harry thought about that for a moment.

“I’m not sure that’s the same. A Horcrux is just a place to store a piece of the soul. Quirrell was actually possessed by Voldemort, so it might be different. But I don’t know for sure.”

“Harry, did Dumbledore say what the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor things were?” Ginny was catching up, and it showed.

“He said he didn’t know. He told me that the only known artifact left by Gryffindor was the sword that’s in the Headmaster’s office…the one….” He paused and looked at Ginny. “The one that I used to kill the basilisk.” She jumped a little, remembering the hell she experienced in the Chamber.

“That doesn’t sound right, Harry.” Hermione had her face scrunched up, trying to will something from deep in her memory. “I think there’s something else…at least, I think I remember there being something else.”

Harry just shrugged. “Well, it’s possible there is, but Dumbledore didn’t know about it.” He turned back to the table and looked around. “That’s it. That’s everything I know.”

“So,” Ginny began, “all we need to do is figure out where he hid Hufflepuff’s cup, and what happened to Slytherin’s locket…the real one. And then we need to find out what he used from Gryffindor, and find it. And then figure out what he used from Ravenclaw…and find it.” She looked at everyone else. “I thought this was going to be tough.” Harry just stared for a moment, and then started laughing as Ginny smiled. It was immediately obvious that she thought the tasks were quite enough to be going on with for now.

“Harry, what happened to the locket? What all do we know for certain?”

“Dumbledore and I went to a cave and collected it. Dumbledore had to drink a potion to allow us access, and that really weakened him.” He paused, not wanting to relive the night again. “Short answer…the locket we got wasn’t the real one, but there was a note inside.” He went over to a small cabinet and returned with the fake locket and the note.

__

To the Dark Lord  
I know I will be dead long before you read this  
But I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.  
I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.  
I face death in the hope that when you met your match,  
You will be mortal once more.  
R.A.B.

Hermione was thinking again about what the note meant. “Harry, does that mean that the locket Horcrux was destroyed?”

“I could be. But we don’t know. R.A.B. was planning on destroying it, but we don’t know if he did. I think we have to start by assuming he didn’t. It’s safer that way.” Hermione nodded.

“Harry, wouldn’t R.A.B. have to be a Death Eater?” Ron had been thinking about this one for a while.

“It makes sense he would have been. How else could he get close enough to do this?”

“Do we have a list of Death Eaters anywhere? Would Moody have a list from the old days? I mean, this guy would have been back in the beginning, right?” Harry could see that Ron was on to something.

“Well, the Horcrux would have been placed long ago, so…yeah, he would have been in when Voldemort first came to power.”

“Do you think he snuck in and took the real one? I mean, if you and Dumbledore had a hard time, wouldn’t he?”

“Probably, but remember, if he was a Death Eater, he might have known how to disable the protective charms.” Ron just nodded, discarding that line of thought for now. Ginny spoke up again.

“I think he had to be a Death Eater, but I think he traded the real one before it was hidden. If he had to ‘discover’ the secret, then he wasn’t in on it before. If he wasn’t, then he wouldn’t have known how to disable anything. And…why would he use his initials unless Voldemort would know who he was. He left the note; he wanted Voldemort to know what he did. If I did it, I wouldn’t just leave my initials, because Voldemort wouldn’t know who I was…and he wanted credit! And why did he say he was going to die? Was he in trouble with Voldemort?” That started them all on a new line of thought, which Hermione started to summarize.

“So, R.A.B. is a Death Eater, but he’s in trouble. He thinks he’s going to die, but we don’t know why. Maybe, well, let’s just assume that he’s in trouble with Voldemort and this is his way of fighting back…taking something that Voldemort wants to preserve.” She paused. “But, he’s not one of the best Death Eaters, because Voldemort didn't tell him about the Horcrux…he ‘discovered’ it!” Harry picked it up from there.

“So, you’re saying that…say, em…Sirius becomes a Death Eater, but he screws up or something. In any case he’s in trouble. Then he discovers what Voldemort’s up to and wants out. But Voldemort’s going to kill him, because he won’t let him out. So Sirius takes the Horcrux and leaves the note... _ **I know you’re going to kill me, but I stole your thing. Love S.B.**_ ” They all stared at him. Hermione screamed.

“Harry, it’s down stairs!” she shouted as she ran out of the room. Harry chased after her as she jumped the stairs three at a time. At the bottom, he saw her disappear into the drawing room. When he caught up, she was pointing at the family tree, her hand shaking.

“Look! He’s right there! R.A.B. is right there!” Harry looked, and saw she was pointing to Sirius’s brother. Regulus Black! He was stunned. Could they really have discovered who stole the locket? Hermione started talking while still trying to collect her breath.

“Remember! Sirius said his brother…became a Death Eater! But he was killed when…he got in too deep and…tried to get out! Look!” She pointed to the date of his death as Ron and Ginny caught up with them. “He died just before you were born! The time is right! Everything fits!” She stopped to inhale. They stood together, just looking at the diagram, absorbing what they had discovered. Ron was the first to speak, very slowly as he turned, looked around the room and pointed.

“Harry, do you remember when we cleared out those cabinets. There were lots of things...lots of dark things in there. Remember Sirius burned his hand…and that thing that attacked you. Do you suppose the real locket was in there…in with that other stuff?” Harry turned to look at the shelves that remained, trying to visualize what they looked like two year ago.

“Harry?” Ginny began softly. “You said you saw the locket in a memory Dumbledore showed you. Can you remember what it looks like?” She was scared that she was touching something very sensitive, and she didn’t want to push too hard. Harry nodded.

“Let me get the pensieve. I can bring that back.” Slowly, they turned from the tapestry and walked back upstairs, exhilarated by what they had discovered, but apprehensive about where it might lead them. In the War Room, Harry pulled out the pensieve and picked up his wand to retrieve his memory of that night. When the pensive was full, he tapped the rim, and the scene began to unfold in the mist above the ancient bowl. There was Mrs. Smith, and Hokey, and Tom Riddle. Hokey left with the Hufflepuff cup, and Mrs. Smith opened the case protecting the locket. As the cover came up, Ginny gasped.

“Harry, I remember that. It was here! We got rid of it. I remember!” Harry tapped the rim again, and the memory froze. Carefully pointing his wand, he spoke another incantation and then pointed at the parchment on the wall. A picture of the locket appeared, slightly out of focus but clear enough to see Slytherin’s _**S**_ and the other features carved into the gold. Harry felt good, very good. They had found the answer to one of the questions.


	11. Dinner with Friends

Chapter 11 – Dinner with Friends

Dinner was a feast…that almost turned into a food fight. All four of them felt rather giddy, and with good reason. They had discovered a significant clue, something that Harry could work with. If they were right, another of the Horcruxes might be located and destroyed.

And they were two couples, completely free for the first time. There were no school rules or teachers to direct them, and no parents or nasty uncles to reprimand them if they got a little wild. Harry cooked up a real meal and they sat and talked and joked and ate together, free from almost any cares. They were lighthearted, and the bottles of mead which Harry found downstairs seemed to release most of the tension they felt.

After eating, they retired to the drawing room, and a bunch of games that Harry had purchased. After a few rounds of Exploding Snap, Harry got up and went over to a bookcase next to the fire, returning with several boxes.

“I got these the other day. They’re muggle games, but I think it might be fun to try them. Hermione looked up, wondering if she knew what they were.” The first was a long box that rattled as he carried it.

“What’s it called, Harry?”

“The muggles call it Scrabble,” he said as he opened the box and unfolded a board covered with little squares.

“How do you play it?” Ginny asked, and he began to read the rules out loud.

Thirty minutes later, Hermione was in the lead, which was no surprise. However, Ron was close behind her, and the entire group was into the action.

“That’s not a word, Ginny! PUGGLE doesn’t spell anything.”

“It’s a plant, Ronald. You can ask Professor Sprout.”

“A puggle plant? I’ve never heard of it. I think you’re making it up.” Ginny reached over to slap him, but he ducked away. “Hermione, have you ever heard of it?”

“I…well, maybe. I don’t remember it, but she might have mentioned it.”

“See, Ron! Harry, I’m right, aren’t I?” Harry, who had enjoyed a little more mead than was probably appropriate, simply giggled and nodded.

“Erm…sure.”

“Harry! You’re just agreeing because…well, because…because it’s Ginny!” Harry giggled some more, and Hermione started to laugh too.

“Let her have it, Ron. It’s probably a good word.”

“Let’s see…that’s 8 and 6…um, 14 and a double word score, so…28!” Hermione wrote her score on the pad and then added again.

“She’s ahead of you Ron. Your turn, Harry.” Harry studied the board carefully, thinking about how he could use the what was there. He was in last place…by a bunch. He leaned around the board, looking at it from Ginny’s side, where the letters were right side up. Then he leaned a little closer and she turned to look at him. He smiled, and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

“What was that for?”

“A kiss for luck,” he grinned, and then reached for his tiles, bridging the spaces between tiles already on the board.. “P U F F S K E I N! And a Triple Word Score!” He kissed her again, shaking his empty tile tray at Hermione. “See…that was for luck. She brings me luck.” Hermione just grinned and started counting his points.

After Scrabble, they started a game called Sorry, but quickly decided it was too tame. Harry pulled another box from the stack, opened the box, and unfolded the board.

“What’s this one, Harry?” Ron said, grabbing yet another butter beer.

“The muggles call it Monopoly, but I got it at Flourish and Blotts. It’s the wizard version.” Hermione knew the muggle game, so she immediately began looking for the differences, and they were easy to find. She saw there were squares for Gringott’s…and land in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade as she traced her way around the board. There was Free Parking (for your broom) and in one corner, Azkaban.

“In the muggle game, this would be Boardwalk, but on this board it’s called The Restricted Section. It’s the most valuable place to get.” She started reading the rules as playing pieces jumped to the squre marked Go! And then they were off….

“Let’s see, you owe me 20 galleons in rent, thank you.”

“That’s doubles three times...you go to Azkaban!”

“Merlin, one more time through there and I’m toast.”

“I’ll take two more hotels, and a house for Wizard Way.”

“I’ll have to mortgage both of these!”

It was late when they finally decided to call it a night and headed for their bedrooms. The games had been fun, filled with lots of good-natured ribbing and sharing of private stories. Both Harry and Hermione had learned a lot more about growing up as a Weasley, especially some of the exploits of Charlie and Bill.

Harry was sitting in his bed, reading another book on concealment when he heard a soft knock on his door. He put the book aside and responded. “Come in.” The door opened slowly and Ginny peeked in, not certain if she should be there.

“Harry?” she said cautiously. “Could we talk for a minute?” Harry smiled and nodded while motioning her to come in. She was dressed for bed, but her clothing was hardly provocative, consisting of a long flannel nightshirt that reached nearly to the floor and featured frogs and toads with a small ruffle of lace around the collar. As she entered the room, she closed the door quietly and then started to walk towards the bed, her uncertainty evident in every step. Harry sat up a little straighter and patted the space beside him, silently telling her to have a seat on the side of the bed and relax. It was easier said than done, for Ginny’s mind was burdened with fears.

“Harry, what’s…going to happen to us? I mean, when I go back to school. You can’t even come and visit.” Harry had anticipated this conversation, though he didn’t really expect it tonight. They still had more than a week before she would leave for Hogwarts, and he had planned on waiting until…well, at least for a while. He smiled and got out of bed, carefully choosing to exit on the far side, away from Ginny. He walked over to the dresser, thinking he was very glad he had chosen a substantial pair of pajamas to wear tonight and wishing he was wearing a top, then picked up a small package and returned to the bed, crawling back under the covers again and resuming his prior position.

“Before Sirius died, he gave me one of these. He kept the other one. He and my dad used to use them to talk with each other when they were separated…usually by detention.” Harry added the last bit with a laugh, making Ginny laugh with him. Then he handed her a small mirror. “I want you to take this one. We can talk any time we want…using these.” Ginny looked at the mirror, uncertain how to use it.

“How does it work?”

“I’m not really sure, but I think it’s some kind of Protean Mimic Charm.”

“Did you and Sirius use them?” Harry blanched a little and then responded.

“No. I forgot about it and put it in the bottom of my trunk.” He paused, and looked a little downcast. “If I had remembered, then I might not have believed Voldemort had him at the Ministry, and…well…maybe things would be different.” Ginny immediately understood how he felt. She knew that if she had done things differently Harry and Ron wouldn’t have been chasing her into the Chamber of Secrets. Harry and Ginny were more alike than they knew.

“I won’t forget, Harry. I promise.” Harry just smiled. He was pretty well over the guilt he felt about Sirius.

“I have something else for you, Ginny. It’s like that Get Out of Jail Free card you had tonight. Well, it’s sort of like that.” He reached up onto the headboard and picked up a galleon. “This looks just like a regular galleon, but its not. See…right here. That’s where the Goblin Code should be….but on this one, there’s just a series of 8’s.”

“What does that mean, Harry?”

“It’s really a portkey…and it will bring you here…if you ever need to get away from somebody.”

“Isn’t that dangerous? I mean, what if somebody else got a hold of it. They could come here and find you.” Harry smiled.

“Ah, it’s not that simple. How do you activate a normal portkey?” She thought for a minute.

“Well, usually you count 1,2,3…and it just…goes.”

“That’s right, Ginny. But this one is different.” He set it down, so he wasn’t holding it, and then resumed speaking. “To activate this one, you count ten, eleven, twelve. If you don't, it won’t do anything. It’s pretty unlikely that anyone else would figure that out.” Ginny nodded as he picked it up and held it out to her. “I have more…one for Ron and one for Hermione.” She nodded, but her face changed again…back to an expression of apprehension.

“Harry, I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to go to school…not if you’re not there.” A small unsteadiness crept into her voice, and Harry thought he could detect a tear or two trying to escape.

“I understand, Ginny. But that is where you belong. You’ve been forced to give up part of your childhood, but you can’t give up your education. It’s where I should be, too. But we both know that can’t happen right now.” He reached out and took her hand. “We both know that.”

“You’re a leader now. Dumbledore didn’t….” He caught himself, remembering that things had changed. “McGonagall didn’t give you that badge simply because you’re a Weasley, you know. She gave it to you because you’ve demonstrated true leadership. And she’s going to need all the help she can get this year.” Ginny nodded a little, but her face didn’t change. “I wish I could be in school. I really do. I know I’m going to miss it a lot.”

“For the last six years, that’s been my home. It’s more my home than anywhere else. But…but I know I can’t be there. I’d like to be there. I’d like to be going to classes. I’d like to be doing homework. Well, maybe not homework.” He grinned. “I’d like to be playing Quidditch. I’d like to be playing Quidditch with you and Ron. I’d like to be doing illegal magic in the corridors. I’d like to be throwing enchanted snowballs at Ron. I’d like to be sneaking into the Restricted Section after hours. There’s a million things I’d like to be doing. I’m going to miss dealing with Peeves. Really! I’m going to miss all those things…the good and the bad. I have no choice…but you do, Ginny. You have a choice.”

Ginny started to openly weep, thinking about all the things he had listed off. She would get to play Quidditch, but not with Harry. She would be going to class, but not with Harry. She would be doing homework, but not with Harry. She would be sitting in the common room, but not with Harry. And she wouldn’t be ‘with’ Harry. She wasn’t afraid, and she was…already lonely.

“Harry, can I still see you?” He smiled.

“I’m right here. You should be able to see me.” He squeezed her hand, knowing that his attempt at humor didn’t quite work. “Yes, Ginny. I’m sure you can come see me from time to time. I’m sure McGonagall won’t mind. And there actually is a way to travel from the castle to here safely. Your dad and I set it up…a rather private connection in the floo network that no one would ever guess.” Her face started to brighten a little.

They sat quietly for a moment, and Harry thoughts ran wild. He was sitting in his bedroom. Ginny was sitting with him. There was no one here to supervise them. They could do whatever they wanted. Then he stopped. Were these appropriate thoughts? It wasn’t that he didn’t love her…he did. It was just…well, he wasn’t sure this was a good idea. She looked up again, her cheeks still shining with her tears. Harry pulled her hand a little, encouraging her to move closer. He was still under the covers and she was still on top, but she moved up beside him, snuggling into his embrace.

“Harry?”

“Hmmmmmmm.”

“Can…can I…?”

His voice caught as he started to respond. Was she really about to ask what he was thinking? He responded very cautiously, not certain if he wanted to hear the question, and very uncertain how he should answer. “Can you…what?” he said, looking directly through her eyes and into her soul.

“Can I stay here tonight?” She’d said it, and she really wanted it, but it was still a big decision.

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes, Harry. I don’t want to…I…I don’t want to be alone. Not tonight. Not…any more.” Harry searched her eyes, looking for something he couldn’t find.

“Ginny, I would love to have you stay. Are you really sure that’s what you want?” She looked up at him. _Is he trying to send me away? Doesn't he want me?_ “If you’re sure that’s what you want…then….” He stopped talking and slowly pulled her face to his, opening his lips as he engulfed hers. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him as close as possible. Harry had his answer.

Harry knew it was her first time. He knew it was his first time. He knew it wasn’t going to be perfect, but he was damn well going to try his best to make it good…as good as it could be. Ginny had all the usual fears. Would it hurt? She’d heard it did, but everyone she knew seemed to survive and want to do it again. Would she be good enough for Harry? She had no idea what that meant, but it seemed important. Between them, they had all the usual first-time jitters. But they also had their love. And that was more than enough to surmount any problems.

Harry tossed the book he’d been reading on the floor and began kissing her, slowly moving from lips to neck and all around her face. She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do, so she just responded, kissing him back when the opportunity arose. He began roaming her body with his hands, touching, caressing, and squeezing her here and there. She could feel her skin tingling as he explored her back, her bum, and finally her breasts.

She gasped a little as he began to touch and tease her nipples, feeling the blood rushing from place to place in response to his touches. They were feelings she known before with Harry, but this was different. They weren’t planning on stopping this time. In the past she’d felt confident, but not now. She knew what she wanted, but she was wading in deeper water, and she didn’t know how deep.

Then he moved his hands to her collar and began opening the buttons…slowly moving down from the top. There were only five, but he seemed to take forever with each one. Then Ginny thought of a problem. The damn thing had to come off over her head. How was she going to manage that? She could use magic, but she didn’t bring her wand.

Harry could feel his own response rising, and he willed himself to go slowly. This was no race for the finish line and he was no hurry to capture a snitch. He thought about things for a moment, and then released Ginny and grabbed his wand from the headboard. Ginny wasn’t sure what he was doing until she heard the spell. He was silencing the room, which made perfect sense, and she smiled as she thought about the noises they might soon be making.

Harry put his wand down and very slowly reached down to the hem of her nightshirt. Ginny wanted it gone, but she was still young and somewhat insecure about her body. Would Harry like what he saw? Were her breasts big enough? Was she…?

“I love you,” he whispered as he slowly worked the nightshirt up to her waist, sliding his hands over her knickers as he went. “I love you,” he repeated as he planted a little kiss on her earlobe. She shifted a little, and he continued until the fabric was bunched under her chin. Then she raised her arms, and he finished, tossing it off on the floor. “I love you, Ginny.” She froze a little as his hands slid gently along her skin, moving softly from her stomach to her breasts, cupping each one as they converged on her nipples. He lowered his head and she jumped as his tongue caressed them both, one after the other. A soft moan escaped her mouth as her arousal reached another new high.

His kisses moved back to her face, completely engulfing her mouth; searching for the treasure of her soul. She responded with her tongue and they seemed to melt into each other in a frenzy of passion. As they rolled together, Ginny could feel his erection for the first time. It had to be huge, and she began to feel a new concern…how this was going to work?

“I love you, Ginny. Are you sure this is what you want?” Her heart stopped. Was he changing his mind? Now that he’s seen, doesn’t he want me? “We can stop if you’re not sure. I’ll still love you.” She felt her heart start again.

“Harry, I want you. I love you too. I’m just a little scared, but I know what I want to do. I just…I’m not sure how….” She tried to smile, but it just wouldn’t quite work. “Harry, I want to be so good for you, but I’m…I don’t know…I haven’t….I’m not sure what to do.” There were tears in her eyes again, but Harry looked right through them.

“Ginny,” he said softly, “I love you. I don’t care about…it…it doesn’t matter. It’s our first time. So what.” His eyes danced as he spoke. “I don’t think it’s supposed to work right the first time…kinda like a new spell. But if you keep practicing, you get better. Right? And then you get good. Ginny, I love you. I want to practice a lot. I want to get real good.” She relaxed a little. Harry slid his hand down to the waistband of her knickers, hooking his fingers into the elastic. He grinned a little as he began to push them down a little. Somehow her fear was gone…like magic!

Then he looked. He’d never seen anything that could compare with the beauty he saw. She just smiled, enjoying his touch and sensing his love. She was lying on her back, with Harry beside her, his fingers tracing little circles and lines on her skin. He traced a line up to her breast, nudging her nipple and watching it respond, the little pink knob on top of the beautiful mountain. Then he retraced his line, stopping when he reached a jumbled pile of vibrant red hair. He stopped again, and looked into her eyes. “I love you, Ginny.” There were tears there again, but this time they were different. They were tears of happiness…of joy.

Very slowly, he moved his hand lower, his fingers gently combing the pile and sliding into the crevice between her legs. She shuddered slightly as new sensations took over, and then she opened her legs wider, inviting him to explore. He began touching here and there, trying to learn where the good spots were. When she jumped a little, he stopped, but she immediately grabbed his hand and moved it there again., as if to say There! That’s the place! As he touched and explored, she began to breathe faster, feeling the arousal he was creating. He moved a little faster, and a little deeper, still exploring this unknown territory. He could feel warmth…and moisture.

Ginny squeaked as he slid his finger within her. He was completely absorbed in her feelings, gauging his actions by her responses. She was gasping and moaning, but it seemed good. She was reaching for him, pulling him onto her. It was time, he decided, and crawled over between her legs. And then he touched her. His erection was throbbing as he began to thrust a little. It wasn’t something he tried to do…it just happened. He could feel her moving beneath him, pushing back as he moved forward. She was wet with excitement. She had forgotten her fears.

It seemed odd for a moment, but Harry discovered that things didn’t automatically line up properly. He felt very uncomfortable as he reached down to move his erection to her opening. He’d just assumed…well…whatever.

As they continued, Ginny reached up and put her hands on his arse, whispering hoarsely, “Do it, Harry. I want you in me.” Harry began to push harder, feeling her stretch and yield. Finally, the head of his cock was inside and he pushed in. Ginny gasped and on the next thrust, Harry slid completely into her. The pain was brief, and then it was over, and it didn’t hurt all that much. She could still feel her body stretching to accommodate him, but it wasn’t that uncomfortable.

He stopped, fearing he was completely losing control, but it was too late. His body was running on autopilot and the next few thrusts drove him to a climax. He screamed as he released everything in a series of three or four explosions. For him, it was over. For Ginny, it wasn’t going to happen. Not this time.

Harry tried to keep up the pace, but he was spent and he had to slow down. Ginny kept moving, having found a motion that generated the most pleasant feelings. When Harry finally quit, Ginny slowed down, trying to figure out what to do next. As they lay together, neither spoke, afraid to break the spell, each lost in their own thoughts.

_It did fit…and it didn’t hurt that much. Was it okay for him? What can I do better?_

_I didn’t last very long, and I don’t think she enjoyed it much. I need to do better next time._

After a few minutes, Harry backed off a little and his hands began to roam again, trying to convey his feelings and his love. He didn’t want to talk, for he knew it would end the magic. Ginny was quiet, but responding to his touch. He started a new series of little kisses, merely touching his lips to her skin…her shoulder, her neck, and up to her earlobe. She would shudder a little with each new touch. When he arrived as his destination, he tickled her ear with his tongue, and softly blew into her ear. She wiggled beneath him, squirming and then starting to giggle as the tickles affected her.

“Harry?”

“Shssssh.”

“Harry.”

“Shssssh.” He didn’t want to talk…because he was afraid it would break the spell. He wanted to save a discussion for later. Right now, he just wanted to feel the warmth of her body next to his; skin sliding against skin.

“Harry…I love you.” She said it softly, barely breathing the words into his ear. But her words shouted her emotions and feelings, coming straight from her heart. He pulled back a little and looked into her eyes, seeing tears everywhere, but knowing she wasn’t sad.

“And I love you, Ginny.” He smiled. “I think you should move in here until it’s time to go leave for school.” Ginny just nodded and pulled him even closer. She had a new home…too.


	12. Back to School

Chapter 12 – Back to School

The days remaining before the start of school flew by in a blur. Although they never asked, Harry and Ginny assumed that Ron and Hermione were sharing a single room. At least it seemed likely. There was nothing said about where Ginny was sleeping either. There were additional meetings and discussions, but nothing dramatic came out of them other than plans for future investigations and explorations. When Saturday arrived, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny spent a little time packing. Much of what they needed had been left at the burrow, with the understanding that Molly and Arthur would bring it directly to the station.

After a lot of consideration, Harry had decided that he would say his good byes at home. There was nothing to be gained by going to the station, and lots of reasons not to go. He wasn’t worried about being out in public…it was more about the concerns that others would have if they saw him. _I thought **he** wasn’t going to be at school…what’s **he** doing here?_ Harry knew he was perceived as a magnet for trouble, so why cause the grief for others.

On Sunday morning, Harry fixed them a big breakfast, and they sat around talking. It was mostly small talk, idle chatter to fill the time and help them avoid the things they didn’t want to discuss. When the time came, there were hugs and kisses all around, and then Hermione grabbed Ginny and together they disappeared. Ron just stared at Harry for a moment, and then finally spoke.

“This is wrong, Harry. You should be going with me. You should be Head Boy.” Harry smiled and laughed.

“Ever since you looked in the mirror, I’ve known what you wanted, Ron. You’ll be great.”

“It won’t be the same without you, Harry.”

“That’s true, but it won’t be the same with Malfoy and Crabb and Goyle either. And no Snape! What would we do…there’s nobody left to worry about.” Ron smiled, thinking that Hogwarts would be rather dull without Malfoy or Snape. Then he finally found the courage to say what he was thinking.

“Harry, I know…well…you and Ginny….” Harry just nodded, not quite smiling, but not looking too serious either. “It’s okay, Harry. I mean, well…you didn’t ask about us, so…well….” Ron wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. He knew they didn’t need his permission, but somehow he thought he ought to give it. Harry just smiled again.

“Ron, it’s okay. I understand. She’s your little sister, but…she’s not a little girl any more. She’s a beautiful woman.” The glow in Harry’s eyes relieved any lingering doubts that Ron still harbored. Harry was clearly in love with Ginny, and that made it okay.

“Still, I’m going to miss you.” He was trying unsuccessfully to hide his feelings. Finally, he grabbed Harry in a hug and they said good bye for real. Then with a pop, Ron was gone and Harry had the house to himself once again.

Considering the number of students who weren’t coming back to school, Platform 9 ¾ was very busy. Almost every Ministry employee was there, many with wands drawn, providing a show of force to convince the parents that their children would be okay. There was the usual confusion and shouting as old friends gathered to compare notes on the summer and first years nervously looked about before boarding for the first time. Almost everyone had parents on the platform, and every parting seemed like there were expectations that someone wouldn’t be there when the term was over. Many conversations seemed to carry a threat of doom.

“Remember to write every day.”

“If anything happens, you need to send an owl immediately.”

“If things aren’t okay, just let us know and we’ll come get you.”

Ron and Hermione led the way to their compartment in the first car. Ginny and the other Prefects followed them, knowing there would be special items to discuss. Finally, the last trunk was loaded, and the big red steam engine came to life, a blast of steam driving the big primary pistons forward and rotating the wheels for the first inches of the trip. Gradually they built up speed and pulled out of the station, leaving many fearful parents behind. It was many things, but it wasn’t just the start of another school year.

“You need to be ready to answer questions,” Hermione said as she gave instruction to the Prefects. “Be on the lookout for first years, and make sure they feel welcome.” She turned to Pansy…the sole returning Slytherin Prefect. “Pansy, I know a lot of Slytherin house isn’t returning. If you need any help, let me know.” Pansy regarded her with contempt, but Hermione and Ron both ignored it. “If there’s anything Ron or I can do to help anyone, just let us know. We’ve got to make everyone feel welcome and comfortable.” With that said, the Prefects left to patrol the train and Hermione just looked at Ron.

“What do we do with Pansy?” Ron shrugged, not because he didn’t care, but because he didn’t know.

“I think we’ll have to let her find herself a little bit,” he offered. “Without Malfoy, she’s got to feel a little insecure. There’s no one to bully her now…no one to tell her what to do and what to think. And she going to have a new Head of House too.” Hermione nodded. There weren’t going to be many Slytherins this year, and that was going to be a problem for everyone. Although it hadn’t been explicitly discussed, they both assumed that Horace Slughorn would resume his old role as the Head of Slytherin.

The hours came and went, with the train chugging through the countryside. There was not much to do except watch the changing vistas unfold as the lowlands gave way to the highlands. After lunch, Ron and Hermione took a stroll through the cars, not really looking for anything. Hermione was surprised to see Padma and Parvati sitting with Lavender. She had assumed they might not return, given what they said about their parents when Dumbledore died. Dean was there, but Seamus was missing. Neville was sitting with Luna and another Ravenclaw that neither of them knew.

Finally it got dark and the engine slowed as Hogsmeade station came into view. Again the platform was full of adults. For the first time, there were teachers other than Hagrid on the platform also, greeting students and generally standing in the way. Ron knew it was all for show, but nonetheless, it was necessary. He was amused to find many of the same wizards here that they left behind in London.

Hagrid gathered the first years, about half the normal number, and led them to the boats, with several other adults in line with them. Gradually the others filled the carriages and rumbled off through the warm fall evening to the castle. The train was left behind, sitting silently as the remaining wizards disappeared, one pop at a time.

The Great Hall was a welcome sight, a roaring fire filling the room with warmth and noise. Some of the tables had been removed, with the hope that their diminished numbers wouldn’t be so obvious. The Slytherin table was noticeably shorter than the others, a fact that many students were sure to notice.

Most of the seventh year was there, with the exception of Slytherin. The sixth year looked thin, but the fifth years were almost all there. Apparently most parents wanted their children to at least complete their OWLS. The third and fourth years were very sparse, with hardly half of the classes present. For some odd reason, the second years were still there…nearly every one of them. When everyone was seated, McGonagall got up to speak.

“I would like to welcome you all back to Hogwarts. I am very glad that you are all here. There are some things I will address later, but for now I would like to discuss the First Year class.” Everyone grew silent, waiting to see what she had to say.

“As you probably observed on the train, the class this year is very small. There is no doubt that many parents decided not to send their children to school, preferring to keep them at home. While that is understandable, it also means that our entire community will suffer. I would ask that you do everything you can to make the class feel welcome.” She took her seat, and there was a loud crash as Hagrid knocked on the doors, announcing the arrival of the First Years.

Hermione got up and moved the Sorting Hat and its stool to the center of the dais as Tonks directed the class to the front and McGonagall got up again. “I would like to welcome you all to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Before you can join your classmates, you must be sorted into your houses. Each house is named for one the four founders of the school and each has a long and distinguished history.” Hermione stood aside, and the Sorting Hat flexed a bit and then began to speak.

 

_It’s time, I think, to talk a bit_  
Of things we all can see  
There’s trouble here in wizard land  
As bad as it can be 

_There’s people dying here and there_  
And lots of folks afraid  
There’s students missing from the school  
And folks that feel betrayed 

_It’s good and bad, this battle is_  
And nothing in between  
There’s hatred and a lot of fear  
And death upon the scene 

_But here, inside the school, should be_  
A place where all can yearn  
To get along, to understand  
A place where you can learn 

_So leave those thoughts of war outside_  
They have no place in here  
This is a place of calm and peace  
And not a place for fear 

_Regardless of the house you’re in_  
Regardless of the past  
It’s time to make them all your friends  
It’s time for peace at last 

_Now there’s some new folks standing here_  
And I’ve a job to do  
So put me on, and I’ll decide  
Which house is best for you 

_There’s Slytherin and Gryffindor_  
Two wizards of the four  
Could not have been more different  
But both have been top drawer 

_And Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff_  
For witches they were named  
And each has had their share of good  
And each has had their famed 

_So sit right down, I’ll find a place_  
Where you can do your best  
Just put me on, and wait a bit  
And I will do the rest 

As always, the first years regarded the hat with not a little apprehension. But the rest of the students, joined by the teachers, applauded its latest song. Most of those who found its warnings childish were no longer here, and those who remained earnestly wished the divisions between the houses could disappear this year. Hermione unrolled the parchment and began calling names.

“Crystal Ashley.“ A rather rotund girl with braided long brown hair slowly mounted the stairs and sat on the stool, clearly apprehensive about what was going to happen. Hermione placed the hat on her head, grinning as she remembered her own encounter with the hat. Crystal shrank down, as if trying to escape by growing shorter.

“Ravenclaw,” the hat bellowed, and Hermione watched as Crystal got up and ran to the table, anxious to be done with the ordeal.

Kenneth Cleghorn quickly followed, becoming a new Hufflepuff.

“Edward Oliver Conrad.” Ginny looked closer, wondering if this was the younger brother of a girl she knew in Hufflepuff. The boy sat tall on the stool, and waited while the hat considered things. Finally, after some mumbling, the hat decided.

“Gryffindor!” Ginny and Ron led the applause as Edward walked to the table and took a seat. Colin Creevey was sitting at the end next to the empty chairs and introduced himself as Hermione continued.

Johannes Delacroix was followed by Elizabeth Farnsworth and then Jean Hargrave-Fulton, who became the first new Slytherin. Unlike past years, there were fewer boos and much more polite applause for a new Slytherin.

Rachette Gymble was sorted to Ravenclaw, and then Gretna Green became another Gryffindor. Ron and Ginny looked up in time to see Hermione read the next name

“Arnold Horton.” A very short boy, who looked far too young to be in school, approached the stool. Hermione slowly set the hat on his head, fearing it would completely cover his face and head.

“Hufflepuff!” Hermione removed the hat, and he started to get up. Ron looked at Ginny and started laughing uncontrollably.

“What’s so funny, Ron?”

“It’s Arnold, Ginny,” he said, pointing at the boy. “Arnold, the pigmy puff!” Ginny looked back at the little boy and started laughing. She knew it wasn’t polite or proper, but Ron did have a point. Only the general applause and cheers prevented them from being discovered, sharing their private joke. Hermione worked her way though the rest of the list until Horace Trimsby-Pinkelton became the last Ravenclaw. As she took the hat and stool away, Professor McGonagall stood up.

“Now, let the feast begin.” As always, the tables immediately sagged under the weight of many tasty dishes and desserts.

Ron and Hermione both visited their old dorms before heading for their own rooms. It was quiet in the boys dorm, with only Neville and Dean left from the original five. There were a few questions, but fewer answers, and not much new to discuss. In the girls dorm, however, things were different.

“Hermione, where’s Harry?” Lavender asked, speaking for Parvati too.

“I’m sorry, Lavender, but I can’t tell you. There’s a charm that prevents me from saying.” Lavender looked skeptical, choosing to believe that Hermione just wouldn’t tell them.

“You can tell us. We won’t tell anybody.”

“No. You don’t understand. Harry used the Fidelius Charm to hide his whereabouts. No one but the secret keeper can tell anyone, and I’m not the secret keeper.” Parvati cooed, thinking that a secret keeper was a really neat thing to have.

“Has he found…You-Know-Who?”

“Not yet. There’s more to the war than just that, but no, he hasn’t located Voldemort yet.” Both girls gasped as Hermione spoke the forbidden name. Hermione made some excuse and left for her own room, wishing she could just go to school, and worry about normal things…like homework…and Ron.

In the Slytherin common room, there was silence. Pansy looked around, seeing Blaise as the only other remaining seventh year. The room was nearly empty, and everyone seemed depressed. Their house had been destroyed, or severely depleted, and it was going to be a long, tough year in the dungeon.


	13. Sisters Lament

Chapter 13 – Sisters Lament

It was the last place she expected to be, having a conversation unlike any she’d had before with a sister who seemed more like a complete stranger. Nonetheless, she was here to plead her case and ask for help…a subservient position she found very uncomfortable.

“Bella, I don’t know what else to do,” Narcissa finished, her eyes running with tears.

“Pull yourself together, Cissy. This is what we’ve all been working for.”

“For this? My husband is in Azkaban…and I may never see him again. My son isn’t even 17 and he’s been expelled from school and is being chased by the Aurors. Even the Dark Lord is displeased with him!” She sobbed but continued. “I spend my days alone in a huge house with no one! The Ministry raids the manor almost every week, looking for things. **_THIS_** is what we’ve been working for?”

“The Dark Lord is winning, Cissy. Every day, more people become sympathetic to our cause. I am proud to have my husband serve the Dark Lord. And if I had a son….”

Narcissa interrupted her. “If you had a son, you’d know what I’m talking about! But you don’t. You don’t know…and you don’t have a son…because you never think of anybody but yourself!”

“I SPENT YEARS IN AZKABAN! YEARS!” she screamed. “I sacrificed everything for what our parents believed in! I married properly to maintain the family.”

Narcissa looked up, glaring at the black eyes she saw before her. “And what did I do, Bella?” she said softly, but still sounding defiant. “What did I do?” Bella did not answer, and Narcissa continued, gathering courage to tell a story that Bella had never heard.

“Once I was in love, Bella. I was in love! I found a man who cared for me. I found a man that I loved. I gave him everything I could. I wanted him. I wanted to live with him…forever. He said he loved me, and I still believe he did. He was perfect, and I loved him.” She paused, wanting to share her woes.

“We were prepared to marry. We wanted to. Yes, I was older, but we didn’t care. He wasn’t that much younger. We were in love, Bella. Love!” She sobbed, remembering the brief period in her life when she was happy. “I wanted to tell our father, but he found out first. He found out I was dating. He found out who I was dating. He found out I had…loved this man. He found out…he tried to kill him. Father found out Severus was a half-blood!” Bella was astonished, but Narcissa continued.

“Father forbid me to ever see him again. He told me I was to marry Lucius. It was all arranged. Lucius had money. Lucius was a pure-blood. Lucius agreed to take me, even though I was ‘damaged goods.’ Lucius agreed because father paid him. HE PAID HIM TO TAKE ME!”

She cried for a moment, and then continued. “They made a deal. I was forbidden to interfere. Lucius had me every night. He wanted an heir…that was part of the deal…I must produce an heir. I was a brood sow; my only purpose to provide a child. There was no love, Bella. THERE WAS NO LOVE! I was used! I was a womb…that’s all. A woman, to be screwed until I produced! I WAS A FUCKING WHORE!”

“After Draco was born, Lucius paid no attention to me. He had his heir! The house elves were sneaking in girls for him…girls that he could use, and then dispose of. Muggle girls, kidnapped and sold in Knockturn Alley. Little girls…disposable girls. I was alone, with only Draco as my friend. I was allowed certain freedoms, and I was expected to perform certain duties at public affairs and such. But I was alone, Bella. I had only my son. And now they’ve taken him too.”

“Everything is in Lucius’ name. I have no money. I have no friends,” she croaked. “I’ve lost my son. I have no love.” As Bella watched, she melted into a pile on the floor. “I have nothing,” she sobbed, her tears soaking her robe and spreading to the rug beneath her.

For the first time in her life, Bella felt something unknown to her. For the first time, she felt sympathy for someone else. Sympathy is a feeling for weaklings. She’d heard that over and over again. Sympathy had been bred out of her. She’d been trained to ignore or suppress that emotion. She’d been trained to suppress all emotions, perhaps with the exception of anger and rage. She’d never felt love, and that was fine. She didn’t need it. It was simply something that would get in the way.

As she knelt down to her sister, she knew it was time to share her story, a story that no one knew. Maybe her sister would listen. Maybe they were more alike than they knew. Tentatively she reached out, touching the sobbing shoulder, trying somehow to offer comfort. But she didn’t know how.

“Cissy,” she said softly. Narcissa continued to weep. “Cissy?” she said a little louder. Narcissa stirred slightly, feeling a touch completely unfamiliar. “Cissy, I think I should tell you something.” Narcissa didn’t really respond, but she did slowly raise her head, responding to a soft voice she’d never heard before. The tears were still flowing, but she looked at her sister, a wondering gaze in her eyes.

“Cissy…we’re…we’re not really….” She couldn’t get it out. The words stuck in her throat…her brain wouldn’t let them loose. Narcissa looked, wondering what it was she was trying to say. Through her tears, she thought she saw something in Bella’s eyes. They almost looked like tears.

“Cissy, I’m not really your sister.” Narcissa gasped, and then coughed as she swallowed far too much air. “I’m only your half-sister.” _What does she mean? How can that be?_ Neither of them spoke…and the silence became overwhelming.

“There’s a reason we don’t look alike. We share the same mother, but your father is not mine.” Narcissa couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but Bella continued.

“Our parents…YOUR parents had just gotten married. Father was a Black, one of the oldest and most honorable houses in all wizardry. Mother was a pureblood. It was a proper marriage by all accounts. But it was like yours…and mine. There was no love.” Narcissa knew all of this. Every day she heard about the values of blood. She knew the Black family went back centuries. Her uncle claimed they were descended from Merlin himself, though no one seemed to know the details. And growing up, she’d never seen any signs of love or affection between her parents. As a child, she just assumed that’s the way things were. It was…normal.

“I was born about seven months after the wedding. Your father did the math and concluded I wasn’t his. They had a great fight, and mother finally admitted she had a lover before they were married. She never said who it was, but that man is my father. There was a big family meeting…all the Blacks. If he divorced her, it would bring dishonor to the family, even if it was her mistake. So they decided. He would acknowledge me as his child. But he never did.”

“I carried his name, but I was his shame. My earliest memories are beatings. It was all my fault. Somehow I did it. I was beaten almost every day. When I was old enough, I became a slave…used to clean the house and cook. I worked with the house elves. When Andromeda was born, she became the favorite child. I was shunted aside, sent to school only because I was supposedly a Black. And then you were born. I was pushed even further aside. What I learned at home came from Cappy, the elf that ran the kitchen. Even he would beat me when I didn’t do what he wanted.”

“When the time came, father…your father, couldn’t wait to get rid of me. When Rodolphus showed some interest in me, your father immediately agreed to the marriage. He wanted me gone, and Lestrange was an old pureblood family. It was perfect. And then Andromeda married Ted Tonks and I was suddenly acceptable again. In public, they were proud of me. But in private, things were different.”

“From the beginning, Rodolphus would beat me. I was a piece of meat…something to be used. I knew nothing of love from our home, and now I found none in my own. I tried, but he didn’t care. Rodolphus didn’t want any children, so…he cast a spell to prevent it.” Bella had been telling the story rather dispassionately thus far, but now she started to crack. “He cursed me to never have children.” Her tears started to escape control, wetting her dark cheeks. “When I went to mother for help, father was there. He beat me again and again, and then sent me back to Rodolphus, who beat me yet again.” Her voice began to rise.

“They beat me again and again. Every day! And then a miracle happened. The Dark Lord spoke to me. He promised me my rightful place. I hoped. For the first time in my life, I hoped. Rodolphus decided we would both become Death Eaters. I was the first witch. I was the only witch! I was proud to serve such a man.” She stopped, looking up and trying to collect her resolve. “I watched as the Dark Mark was branded into Rodolphus. I was next, and I knew it would hurt. But I was brave. I would have a place of honor…for the first time in my life.”

“The Lord branded me…the Mark burned as he pressed it into my skin. I screamed, but I knew it would be over soon. The Dark Lord was pleased with me. He told me. Then, he left…and….” Her resolve fell apart and her voice faltered, falling to a whispered croaking. “They were all there. All the Death Eaters. And one at a time, they had me. Rodolphus just laughed as he watched them rape me…over and over. He said it was the proper place for a witch. ‘A witch’s place is on her back’ he said…over and over.” She was crying now…tears born of an emotion she denied.

Narcissa tried to absorb what she had heard, but it wouldn’t sink in. “Why didn’t you run away?”

“You don’t run away from being a Death Eater; you don’t retire. There was only one way out. I became even harder. I was tougher than all the rest.” She started to compose herself and her voice began to grow stronger again. “I am the Dark Lord’s closest follower. I do whatever he commands. I am better than all of the rest. When some went into hiding, I sought him out…I searched for him…I went to Azkaban for him. I was stronger than any of them.” She had become defiant again, forgetting everything she had just shared, closing those memories away again. “He has only to command…and I will follow.”

“Don’t you wish for happiness, Bella? Wouldn’t you like to be happy again?”

“I have NEVER been happy. The dementors have my happiness. They can keep it…I don’t need it!”

“I need mine, Bella. Please…please. I want my son back. Please help me…please!”

Bella looked down and sneered. “Your son is doing the bidding of the Dark Lord. You should be proud of that.”


	14. Plans and Projects

Chapter 14 – Plans and Projects

For a day or two, Harry’s life seemed to turn into a series of meetings. He wasn’t about to complain, because each meeting seemed to move his agenda forward, or at least answer some questions, and in the process he was building his own army, a secret support group that he know would be helpful in the future.

On Wednesday morning, an owl showed up with a letter for him, bound in blue string. This was a system that he and McGonagall had worked out to insure that he didn’t open a letter that might be dangerous. The note was very short and simple…

_Harry_

_Edward Lighthorse wants to meet with you. I think you should talk with him and find  
out what he wants._

_Minerva_

Harry considered the request. He had never met Lighthorse, though Hermione and Ginny both thought he was probably okay. Hermione was quick to point out that he had reacted when she blew the whistle on Umbridge. Maybe he was different. Since Harry got to name the place, he decided to go and at least listen, thinking he had nothing to lose. Maybe Lighthorse wasn’t part of the Fudge faction, and if he was…well, he could just leave. After dispatching Hedwig with a note, he wandered into the War Room and continued his studies.

After lunch, Hedwig returned with a note of acceptance attached to her leg. Harry cleared up his dishes, and prepared to leave. He had discovered that he could apparate while wearing the invisibility cloak, although it would often get tangled up around his legs. He decided just to carry it, and left the house to meet Lighthorse.

In a small muggle cafe off Charing Cross Road, Harry grabbed a booth in the back and waited. He knew that Voldemort would never think to look for him in muggle London, so this kind of place was perfect. He did, however, keep his hand near his wand. Hermione had given him a description of Lighthorse, and Harry watched as he came in, blinking back the afternoon sun as his eyes adjusted to the relative darkness inside. He wandered a little, and then identified Harry and joined him.

“Hello, Harry. I’m glad we finally got a chance to meet.” He shook Harry’s hand, and then took a small sip of the tea he had ordered. “What would you like to talk about?”

Harry wasn’t sure where to start, after all the meeting had been requested by Lighthorse. “I thought…well, Minerva told me you wanted to meet, so….” Harry let the sentence drop, waiting to see what would happen.”

“Well, I did want to meet you, Harry. I think you and I need to give some thought to what’s going to happen, and how.” Harry grew a little wary, concerned that here was another attempt to recruit him for the Ministry propaganda program.

“As you know, the Ministry still hasn’t really figured out how to deal with the problem. Fudge was all about appearances. He was weak, and couldn’t decide what to do. You know that.” Harry just nodded, uncertain how much of his hand he wanted to reveal.

“Scrimgeour is different, but not much. He is taking a much harder line on things, but still wants to look good. I think you heard from him a couple times last year, right?” Harry nodded. “He was disappointed when you wouldn’t join the Ministry, but I understand completely why you didn’t.” Harry nodded again, listening very carefully. “I think you did the right thing, Harry. I wouldn’t have joined either.” Harry wasn’t sure what he meant.

“As you know, I’m now the head of Aurors. That means I have a lot of input about how we go after the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself. But I have some problems. You see, Harry, I have to follow certain rules. I’m supposed to follow the law. Now, don’t get me wrong. Usually, I think that’s a good thing. Society needs rules, and we will ultimately struggle if we break our own rules just because it’s convenient. How do we decide when to follow the rules, and when we don’t? You can understand that, right?” Harry nodded again, and then spoke up.

“I remember that Barty Crouch did that the last time. The Aurors suddenly could do just about anything, and some people were killed without a trial. Others, even innocent people, were sent directly to Azkaban…like Stan Shunpike.” It was Lighthorse’s turn to nod, agreeing with Harry’s point.

“That’s right. And I don’t want to head down that road. I think it’s a bad idea, and I’m not certain that it works, either.” He paused, apparently having come to his real point. “You, on the other hand Harry, have certain…ah…freedoms that I don’t have. And I think that’s a good thing.” Harry was quick to assume, and probably shouldn’t have.

“So, are you just like the others? You want me to do the dirty work while you sit back and collect the credit?” Lighthorse smiled, but immediately shook his head.

“No! Not at all. Please hear me out on this, and then make up your mind.” Harry calmed a little and told him to go on.

“I have been told you really are The Chosen One. I don’t know if that’s true, but it doesn’t really matter…at least to me. Miss Granger, who spoke very highly of you, said that you have taken on the job regardless, and I admire your courage. However, I also know that when the time comes, you’re not going to be in the position to say _I want to arrest you and take you to trial._ It is likely that you will have to make some life and death decisions, and I want you to feel free to make them…using your best judgement.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a whisper.

“Harry, you are free to do whatever you feel is best, and I promise you that I will NOT second guess anything you do. You and I can work together, even if we never meet again. I am willing to share any information I receive with you…with no obligations. If you need help, I’ll try to provide it…with no obligations. The Aurors will remain completely away from you, and whatever you are doing. If you want to tell us something, you can, and I will respect your abilities and knowledge. Always!” Harry was stunned by his offer, not certain what to make of it.

“So, you don’t’ care what I do?”

“Of course I care! We’re on the same side, you and I. We both want the same thing. But I have a set of rules which make if difficult to pursue certain…ah…lines of investigation. You, on the other hand, do not have the same limitations, unless I get in your way. And I’m telling you now that I won’t do that. If you corner a Death Eater and he doesn’t survive, well…then that’s what happens. I’m not going to haul you in and demand a trial because something happened. I trust you to use your common sense.”

“What do you want from me?” Harry was still wary, thinking there was something more coming.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. If you can share something with me, that’s great. But if you don’t want to, I understand. I will use what you give me to my best advantage.” He paused and smiled. “I believe you probably saw an article in the Prophet a few days ago, about a former friend…or acquaintance of yours. Delores Umbridge?” Harry smiled.

“That’s what I can do for you, Harry. Your friend Miss Granger spoke about that in my presence, and I listened. I heard her, Harry. It didn’t take much digging to find the records of your trial and things became pretty clear. Delores didn’t deny it for long, especially when I pointed out that I could probably supply a number of witnesses who heard her take credit for the attack. That’s what I can do for you, Harry. That’s what I WILL do for you.” He sat back, allowing Harry to think about things for a bit.

“We can work together on this, Harry, without ever telling anyone. I don’t want credit. I don’t want glory. I want the Dark Lord gone…that’s my only objective. Our work can be complimentary without being competitive. I don’t care who gets him, as long as…well, as long as he’s gone.” He sat back, evidently done talking. Harry sipped his tea and considered what had been said. For a long time, they sat in silence, each sizing up the other. Harry wanted to believe that Lighthorse was different…that he was…what? Harry found himself hoping that he was like Dumbledore. Was that too much to hope for?

“Harry, Miss Granger told me that you spent some time with Dumbledore last year, in some sort of private lessons. I don’t know what you discussed, and I don’t need to know. I’m sure you know some things that I don’t…and that’s okay. That’s fine. If you choose to share those things with me, I promise I will keep them secure. But that’s entirely up to you. I’m not asking.” Harry thought about that. He certainly didn’t want his knowledge of the Horcruxes to become public.

“Harry, what could I do for you right now? I don’t care what you’re planning, or what you know. What could I do that would make your job easier?” Harry thought about that for a moment, and then told him. Lighthorse just smiled. “I think I can do that, Harry. If you think it would help you.” He got up, again shaking Harry’s hand. “It will take a day or two, but…I’ll take care of it. In the meantime, you know how to reach me.” Harry nodded as Lighthorse got up and walked out the door. Then he looked down. Lighthorse had even paid the tab.

It was dinnertime, and Harry knew that everyone at Hogwarts would be in the Great Hall. He needed to talk with Slughorn, and the only way was to go to Hogwarts. He decided that it was time to see if Arthur had been successful. He packed up his cloak and stepped into the fireplace. With a handful of floo powder, he decided to try.

“Voldemort’s Castle!” There was a green flash, and Harry Potter was gone.

Every painting in the Headmistress’s office woke up when the fireplace erupted in flames. They all knew the floo network at Hogwarts was off-line, yet somebody just arrived. The wizard stood up and dusted himself off, just as the painting of Dumbledore spoke up. “Hello, Harry. How are you?” Harry turned, thinking about what to say to the portrait. It wasn’t so much that it talked, because in seven years, Harry had grown used to talking portraits. He’d had conversations with lots of them. It was more…well…it was two things.

First, this portrait was a picture of someone he had known in real life. It wasn’t Dumbledore…but yet…it was. The other thing was that he wasn’t sure exactly how to approach the conversation. Should he just act like nothing had changed? _Sorry I haven’t seen you for a while…how’ve you been?_ That didn’t seem right.

“Hello, Professor. I’m…good. I really miss being at school though.” Dumbledore nodded.

“I understand, Harry. This is the place where you should be, enjoying your last year, enjoying life with your friends. I’m sorry that life didn’t allow you that reward.” Harry nodded. He wasn’t ready to have a serious talk with Dumbledore yet, but he knew he would eventually. “What brings you to Hogwarts tonight?”

“I need to talk with Professor Slughorn.”

“Ah, yes. He and I have spoken. He was very concerned that his memory was the cause of my…demise. I have assured him that was not the case.” It was Harry’s turn to nod, agreeing the memory had little to do with those events. “Harry, he is willing to help you, but…tread softly. He is very concerned that he created the monster you seek.” Harry nodded, understanding what he said. He stood up, threw on his cloak, and left the room.

Horace Slughorn was sitting at his desk, muttering as he corrected essays from his first year class. When he heard the knock, he looked up, wondering who would be calling during dinner. “Come in,” he said, peering around a simmering cauldron to see who was at the door. Harry walked in and sat down, trying to read Slughorn’s face. It wasn’t easy, because there were far too many emotions fighting for expression, but mainly surprise combined with fear and apprehension.

“Good evening, Professor. I need to ask a couple small favors, if I may.” The portly man with the confused and fearful face nodded. “You told me once that you knew the publisher of the Daily Prophet.” Slughorn started to relax a little. “I wonder if you could introduce me…or set up a meeting. I would like to talk with him.” Slughorn was very relieved. The request was simple, and not personal.

“Certainly I can do that Harry. What else might you need?” Harry told him, and he nodded again, gathering a couple of bottles to fill.

 

The next morning, Harry rose early and spent some time thinking about exactly what he wanted to say. After all, the Daily Prophet had never been his best friend. At ten, he grabbed his cloak and promptly disappeared.

With a pop, Harry Potter appeared in the lobby of the Daily Prophet. As always, he immediately looked around, slowly putting his wand away when he found nothing threatening. There was no one in the lobby except the receptionist, and he promptly walked over and asked for directions and then headed down a long hallway towards the double doors at the end.

“Please sit down, Harry. I’m very happy to finally meet you.” Barnabus Cuffe wasn’t exactly what Harry expected, but he was unique. Slughorn had described him as a man with keen intellect and a real nose for news. He didn’t mention that he was very tall…and very, very thin. Harry immediately thought of a scurvis plant…a very long thin stem with a single large bulbous flower at the top. Cuffe’s hair seemed to explode out of the top of his head, far more unruly than Harry’s.

Cuffe leaned way over his large, neat desk, bringing his face almost to the front. “Now, Horace said you wanted to talk, but he failed to mention what you had in mind.” Harry began to explain, but Cuffe stopped him in the middle. “I don’t see any way we could do that, Harry. It’s just too dangerous, and…well, I don’t think anyone would want to read it.”

“Not even with the promise of an exclusive interview at the end?” Cuffe shook his head.

“No, I can’t see that being very interesting either.”

“Well, I guess I can go elsewhere. The last time I did an interview, you didn’t seem to think it was very important either, until you had to buy it from Lovegood over at the Quibbler.” Cuffe sat back, slightly stunned at Harry’s blunt observation of his previous error.

“Well, circumstances were a little different then, Harry.”

“I know. You had Fudge telling you to kill the story, while Umbridge was busy trying to kill me. Lot of good it did.” Harry got up, cutting off Cuffe before he could respond. When he reached the door, he turned. “You know…sometimes I really like the muggle press. They not only have the same freedoms you do, but they understand that value of using that freedom. They may not always get it right, but at least they try!” Before Cuffe could say anything more, Harry changed his mind and re-entered the room, marching back to the center…and then disappearing with a pop!

 

Luna’s father’s office at The Quibbler couldn’t have been more different. There were stacks of parchment everywhere, piled in the corners, spilling from his desk onto the floor, and covering every other flat surface. Harry wasn’t really sure that The Quibbler was what he wanted, but it was the next best option, and probably more likely to do what he wanted.

“It’s very nice to finally meet you, Harry. Of course, Luna has told me a great deal about you.” Harry just nodded politely. “So, what can I do for you?”

“I have a business proposition for you, Sir. I have some information about the Dark Lord that I would like to get published. It might influence the outcome of the war, and I really need to find someone who can provide a way to get it out to everyone.” Lovegood nodded, immediately assuming he understood the issue.

“The Ministry is stopping the truth again, huh?” Harry just nodded, assuming that was what he probably wanted to hear. “I understand. Last month I tried to talk with them about the Flaming Rot-hells they’ve been breeding, but they wouldn’t tell me anything.” Harry nodded again, never knowing exactly how to respond to stories like this.

“I understand, Sir. Here’s my proposal. I will provide information to Rita, and she will write the stories. If you publish them, then I will give you and Rita the exclusive rights to my complete story after it’s over. You can have another interview and anything else you wish.”

“That’s quite an offer, Harry. Are you sure you want to do that?” He was asking a question, but Harry could sense he was already thinking about the money that could be made with an exclusive interview of The Chosen One.

“Yes. I think that’s a fair trade. After all, you would be taking some risk. If the Dark Lord didn’t like what he read, he might come after you.” Lovegood just shrugged.

“I’m not really too concerned about that. He’d be more likely to go after Rita, but she can take care of herself. She always has.” Harry couldn’t help but agree. And, of course, Rita had one secret that would help her dodge the Death Eaters. “I’d be more than happy to print the stories, Harry. Just have Rita send them, and you can have the cover unless something else really important comes up.”

“She will want to be paid for the stories,” Harry added, not certain what response to expect.

“Yes, I’m sure she will. I don’t see any problem with that. I think I can make an exception in an extraordinary case like this.” Harry couldn’t ask for any more than that, and they shook hands, sealing the deal.

Back at home, Harry took a moment to write a note to Rita, reviewing what would happen. After reading what he had written again, he sealed the parchment and called to Hedwig. “Please take this to Rita Skeeter,” he said, patting her head. Hedwig nipped his finger and then spread her wings and flew out the window.


	15. A Hobson

Chapter 15 – A Hobson’s Choice

Harry Potter wearily ascended from the cellar once again. He had spent the last four days pawing through the bags of trash left there by Sirius two years before, skipping nothing, and hoping that he might find the missing locket. In the process, he had discovered two things. The first was that it was obvious Dung had gone through almost everything, taking whatever he felt had potential value. The second was that the locket wasn’t there. 

Did Dung have it? That seemed to be the most likely answer. However, as an answer, it meant nothing…except that Harry was no closer to finding it. As he climbed back into the kitchen, he suddenly thought of something weird. If the Death Eaters knew about one or more of the Horcruxes, why didn’t they activate one when Voldemort was…injured or whatever, back in Godric’s Hollow? If they knew, then why wouldn’t they have done something? With that revelation, all kinds of things suddenly didn’t make sense.

It began to really bother him. It made no sense! He retreated to the War Room, and started writing down his thoughts, trying to reason his way to a conclusion.

_Voldemort made several of his Horcruxes before he went to kill me._

_He might have made all six. No, I think he did make all six. It doesn’t matter_

_He had apparently distributed or hidden at least some of them. The ring was at Marvolo’s house…Lucius had the diary…he (Voldemort) thought the locket was at the lake._

_He had, presumably, told somebody about them…maybe!!!! Lucius knew the diary would open the chamber of secrets, but he didn’t know how…or why. I don’t think he know it was a Horcrux Dumbledore didn’t think he knew_

_If Voldemort was injured but still alive when the spell rebounded, he should have been able to tell somebody what happened and how to fix it. Why didn’t he?_

_He could have claimed any body and possessed the person, at least long enough to get a new body of his own….at the very least, he could buy some time_

_Even a muggle_

_Why didn’t he?_

_If he was able to travel to Albania, he could have traveled to anywhere, including wherever he was living at the time. He could have found a Death Eater and given instructions._

_If he could possess Quirrel, he could have possessed a Death Eater and stayed in England_

_He said the aurors were looking for him, but would they have found him if he possessed a muggle? Surely they wouldn’t find him that fast. Besides, he can hide with his own body, so………._

_He could have found Peter. Maybe not…how soon did Peter run into Sirius?_

_Does that mean the Death Eaters didn’t know about the Horcruxes? They’d have to know…otherwise the Horcruxes would be useless. Somebody would need to recover one and activate it…right?_

_Can a Horcrux activate by itself? What would cause it to do so? Does it know if another piece of the soul has been killed? NO! The real Voldemort didn’t know about the diary until Lucius told him! At least, that’s what Dumbledore said._

Harry starred at the page for hours, trying to find the flaw in his thinking. He kept coming back to a single point. Things didn’t make sense if Voldemort was still “alive” after trying to kill Harry. What was he missing? With confusion still running rampant through his mind, he decided to deal with the present…find Mundungus…and eat some dinner.

As he nibbled his meal, he thought about how to pursue Dung. Where could he most likely find him? Would someone in Knockturn Alley know where he was? Moody? He seemed to hang out in Hogsmeade from time to time, so maybe he should start there. Would Aberforth know? Finally, Harry decided to test something and began carefully crafting a pair of letters. When he was done writing, he picked up his wand and pointed at one of them. Let’s see what this does, he thought as he dispatched Hedwig on a two-stop journey. “Take this one to Lighthorse…and this one to Mundungus, if you can find him.” She nipped his finger and flew off on her assignment.

Two days later, Harrry had his answer. He was sitting at the breakfast table when an owl flew in, bearing a letter sealed with green wax and two imprints, one of the Department of Aurors and the other a large, ornate letter L. Harry ripped it open and began to read.

 

_**Dear Harry** _

_**The charm you utilized was effective and we were able to locate Mundungus Fletcher. He is in custody at this time, being held on suspicion of theft, although we have not disclosed the specifics to him.** _

_**If you wish, you may come and interrogate him without interference. If he does not provide the information you seek, we will proceed to trial with the information you have provided. You will, of course, be required to testify, however, I can assure you the topics will be limited to whatever you wish to disclose.** _

_**Edward** _

 

Harry quickly scribbled a reply and dispatched the owl back to the Ministry. Very shortly, Harry dressed and apparated to the Ministry, bypassing the entry hall and landing in the storage closet for the aurors as he had arranged earlier with Lighthorse. He was anxious to see what he could discover. 

It was a small, featureless room, containing a table, three chairs, a single door, and one uncomfortable miscreant. From outside, in the auror’s offices, the wall was transparent, and Harry could see Dung was unhappy, just sitting by himself and wondering what was going to happen next. It wasn’t his first time under arrest, but this time it was different. He knew from Harry’s letter that this would be serious…very serious. After conferring briefly, Harry and Lighthorse entered the room and sat down. Lighthorse spoke first.

“Mr. Fletcher, you have been brought here to discuss the theft of certain items. Your answers will determine whether you walk out of here…or are transported directly to Azkaban prison. With the information I have, you can be assured of a term which will exceed your remaining years. Mr. Potter is going to ask you some questions, and then a decision will be made.”

Mundungus was fidgeting in his chair. It was immediately obvious that he wasn’t confident, knowing that Harry knew too much about his activities. Then, Lighthorse got up and left the room, leaving Dung very confused.

“Hello, Dung,” Harry started conversationally. “We need to talk about the things you removed from Sirius’s house.” Dung started shifting about again. He was cornered and had no way out…and he knew it!

“What you gotta understand, Harry…”

“What YOU have to understand is this,” Harry responded, cutting him off and taking control of the situation. “You have stolen property which does not belong to you. You have been observed trying to sell that property. In fact, you have sold that property…and Aberforth will testify that he bought it…after you assured him it was not stolen. So, you are ready to go to a trial where multiple people will testify that’s what happened?” Harry paused, letting his words take effect.

“You are facing charges that will land you in Azkaban for the rest of your life. THAT’s what YOU need to understand! You’ve been there before, and now you’re going back…on a one way ticket.” Harry sat back, waiting for Dung to respond. There was silence in the room, except for the squeaks and creaks as Dung squirmed about in his chair. Harry wanted Dung to talk next, and he was willing to wait him out.

“Ah…Harry?”

“What?”

“What are you plannin’ to do?”

“I’m going to ask you about one thing you took. If you give me the right answers, I might decide to let the whole thing go. Then again, I might not.” Again, Harry maintained silence, letting Dung imagine the worst and drown in his own fears.

“What do ya want to know?”

“There was a gold locket with a chain. I can’t be opened, which is a good thing, because if it was opened, the person holding it would be killed instantly. I want to know where it is. I want it back.” Dung started shifting again, trying to remember.

“I don’t remember no locket, Harry. I don’ think I got it.” Harry just smiled…and then got up and prepared to leave. When he reached the door, he stopped and turned. Dung was just staring at him. Harry’s face was set…and he returned, leaning on the table and putting his face directly in front of Dungs’…eye to eye.

“Yes, you do. And you damn well know it. It’s too bad you can’t come clean, Dung, because I really preferred to solve this easily. Just remember this: when I find the locket, you will be brought back from Azkaban to stand trial again…for attempted murder. And when that’s done, they’ll take you downstairs to a little chamber with a veil. I’ve been there. And after reading the formal decree, they’ll push you through the veil. You’ll be dead, which is fine by me. And, better yet, Sirius is on the other side waiting for you. And he’s not going to be real happy with you. Good bye, Dung. I’ll see you in court.”

Harry turned and left the room, closing the door and turning to see Lighthorse standing outside. “Nice job, Harry. I’m betting…oh, about two minutes. Maybe three on the outside.” They both smiled, knowing that Mundungus Fletcher would never choose a trial.

After the appropriate time, Lighthorse returned to the room as Harry watched from outside. “So, you’ve decided you’ll take your chances in court. Okay. Is there anyone you’d like us to summon as a witness?” Dung just stared. “No? Well then let’s proceed. I hate to keep the entire Wizengamot waiting.”

“The…the trial’s…now?”

“Sure. Why not? All the necessary witnesses are here, so we might as well get it over with. Shouldn’t take too long, and I can deliver you to Azkaban on my way to lunch.” Lighthorse sounded like the decision had already been made, which was exactly the message he wanted to convey. He walked around the table and took Dung by the arm, pulling him up from the chair.

“I…I wanna talk to Harry.”

“You had your chance to talk to Harry. Time’s up.”

“No,” Dung cried. “I know where the locket is. I’ll…tell him.”

“Sorry. He told you what he needed…and you lied yet again. He’s not interested any more.”

“NO! No, I’ll tell him. I promise…I’ve still got it.” Lighthorse just smiled, but continued to pull Dung to his feet. “No. I’ll tell him everything.”

The door opened and Harry walked in, ignoring what he’d just heard. “They’re all ready in the chamber.” Lighthorse nodded, and pulled on Dung again.

“No! Harry! I’ve got the locket. I’ll go get it for you. You can have it.” Harry just smiled.

“Sorry, Dung. You had your chance. I’ll find the locket myself, and you have a cell reserved on an island.”

“No! No! Harry, don’t do this. Harry! Harry, we were in the Order together.” Harry’ face turned to stone.

“You were in the Order, and when it came time to decide between doing your job and dealing with stolen cauldrons, you chose the cauldrons, and I was left to deal with dementors!” He moved closer, his face inches from Dung’s. “Don’t give me The Order crap, Dung! That’s just another in a long line of lies.” Mundungus shrank back, finally understanding he had no options left.

“What do you want from me?”

“I told you. But since you didn’t get it, I’ll explain it again. I want the locket back. I want everything else returned that you stole from Sirius’ house. EVERYTHING! You have one hour to bring it to the back room at the Leaky Cauldron. All of it! And if you ever even think about taking something that doesn’t belong to you, you’ll be right here again, with no options.” Harry pulled out his wand.

“Senosia Proximal!” Dung shook as the spell hit him. “Now, we’ll know exactly where you are all the time, so don’t think you can run away. You have one hour!” Lighthorse released him after steering him to a fireplace. Dung disappeared, and Lighthorse turned to Harry.

“I hope this gets you what you need, Harry.” Harry nodded.

“I don’t think he’ll fool around. He knows what will happen, and he doesn’t want to go back to Azkaban.” Lighthorse nodded. “Thank you. I don’t know that he would have caved in if I tried that myself.”

“I agree. We would like to put him away, but I’m happy to let him go if he provides something you need. Let me know if I can help you again, Harry.” They shook hands, and Harry turned to leave. “By the way, Harry. Should anyone ask, we brought him in for questioning about something, and decided he didn’t know anything about it. And you…were never here.” Harry grinned and then disappeared with a pop.


	16. Back to the Grind

Chapter 16 – Back to the Grind

For everyone at Hogwarts, the school year finally settled down to a relatively normal routine. There were new rules, but they quickly became a normal part of life. The library closed earlier, and bed checks meant that the common room emptied earlier, but that soon changed. When McGonagall found that homework wasn’t being completed because too much study time was lost, she quickly altered the rule, specifying that the students must be within their house, but not necessarily in bed. The house entrances were sealed at nine each evening, and that seemed to work much better.

Ron and Hermione, as Head Boy and Head Girl, were largely unaffected by the changes. They still had to do rounds, albeit in the company of an auror. That was fine, because they soon found that having a partner with them was very pleasant. Tonks had claimed the job, and every night she provided interesting conversation while they checked the castle.

On Wednesday, the seventh years had Defense Against the Dark Arts, and for the first time ever, they didn’t have a new teacher…at least not completely new. They were all happy to have Remus return, and it showed as they filed into the room for the first class, laughing and smiling together.

“It’s very nice to be back with you,” he began, his eyes dancing as he glanced around to see the faces he remembered fondly. However, they were faces grown older and more serious. “I need to spend a few minutes talking about what we’re going to do this year, and what I expect from each of you.” He had their undivided attention now…everyone was listening.

“I’m not going to pretend there aren’t problems out there,” he began, waving his hand in the general direction of outside. “There are, and some of you have already had to face confrontations with the forces of the Dark Lord. I’m afraid that more of you will before this is over.” He paused, and a hand went up. “Yes, Pansy.”

“Professor, do you think the Dark Lord will come here…to Hogwarts?” She had asked the question that was foremost on their minds, and one that Remus had anticipated would come up.

“I don’t think he will. There is no one here who directly challenges his authority. However, it is wise to assume the worst and plan for it. One of the things which you will discover is that the Dark Lord does not always do things that are predictable. He has a unique outlook on the world, and that can lead to unexpected challenges. However, I think it unlikely he will come here.” The class settled a little, happy to hear that their teacher thought it unlikely they would be attacked.

“You are going to spend much of the year in personal research. Each of you will have three projects of independent study, one each term. You may choose any topic you wish, but you will need to clear the subject with me before beginning. At the end of the term, you will present your research to the entire class, and we will discuss what you have learned, and any spells or charms that are related to your work.” He turned and pointed his wand to the board, which was suddenly covered with writing.

“I have listed a number of general subjects which you might consider, along with specific areas within the subjects that might prove useful. After you have selected your topics, I will teach you from the topics that are not selected. Each week, you will submit a short parchment on your progress, and every two weeks I will meet with each of you individually to assess your progress and discuss further avenues for your research.” Hermione’s hand went up.

“Yes, Hermione.”

“Can we select other topics? Something that’s not on the list?” Remus smiled, knowing Hermione had probably read all about everything on the board.

“Yes, you may. However, I will reserve the right to evaluate whether your selection is appropriate.” He looked up at everyone, and his face grew serious. “It is important that each of you understand. Today, it is very likely that you will need to apply what you have learned about the Dark Arts. In the past, these were not skills you might use very often. Many Hogwarts graduates have lived their entire lives without once using what they learned in this class. That is no longer true.” He paused, and then decided to bring up the other topic for the day.

“How many of you were members of Dumbledore’s Army?” There were some gasps as the name of the somewhat secret society was mentioned. Hermione and Ron slowly raised their hands, as did several others. “I understand that you felt that training was very worthwhile.” Many heads were nodding.

“It is my thought to resume that program. Would any of you be interested?” Now everyone, including Pansy, nodded. Those who had been there knew, and the rest of the school had heard. One of the major topics for discussion at the start of their sixth year had been the fact that everyone in the Army had passed the Dark Arts OWL exam, almost all of them receiving an Exceeds Expectations grade. Several of the other students struggled and did not pass.

“Very well. I will provide a sign-up sheet in the houses, and we will continue those classes, in the…erm, regular place.” Ron snickered, knowing that Harry would find the whole thing rather amusing. What was once an underground activity was now an officially sanctioned interest group. Neville was smiling, knowing that he could re-visit some of his favorite times at Hogwarts. It was, however, not going to be the same without Harry teaching.

The following afternoon, Hermione and Ron were sitting at a library table piled high with texts as they researched Dark Arts projects. “You know, Ron. I was thinking about that last option Professor Lupin listed...Alternative Magic.”

“Hermione, I don’t even know what that is.”

“That’s what I mean. Neither do I.” With that, she got up and went to find the librarian, Madam Pince, locating her as she finished confronting a couple of noisy second years.

“Madam Pince, I was wondering if you could help me for a moment.”

“What is it you need?”

“Professor Lupin gave us a list of topics for research…”

“I’m well aware of his list,” she replied, cutting Hermione off before she could explain. It was evident that the librarian didn’t agree with the list, or at least some things on it.

“Well…he listed Alternative Magic. I’m not really sure what that is. Can you recommend a book or anything that might explain it?” The librarian looked at her…and finally spoke.

“There is a good book that describes several of the Alternative Magic phenomena. Usually, they are found in native cultures, such as the Shaman of Native Americans, sometimes called a Medicine Men. But there are also others.”

“Can you show me the book?”

“It’s in the Restricted Section!” She stated this both as a location, and a pronouncement that it was off limits.

“Can you get it for me?” Hermione didn’t back down, and Madam Pince remembered that Lupin had granted blanket access to the restricted book for his seventh year class. Begrudgingly, she acquiesced, returning in a moment with the volume.

“You need to keep this to yourself. Don’t go sharing it with others.” Hermione nodded, barely suppressing a smile. When she returned to the table, she found Ginny had joined Ron.

“Hi, Ginny.”

“Hermione, I need your help.” Ginny sounded frantic, and Hermione immediately assumed it was something to do with Harry.

“What?”

“Well, I know there was a tournament of some sort…here at Hogwarts…a short while after it opened. But I don’t know anything else. I think it was like a tournament of knights…you know, jousting and such. I want to surprise Binns this afternoon, but I can’t find anything about it here. Do you know where I might find something?” Hermione just nodded.

“I’ll be back in a minute, lover,” she said as she planted a kiss on Ron’s cheek and left with Ginny, heading towards her room.

Minutes later, Hermione was digging into her trunk. “Here it is,” she said, pulling out her well-worn copy of Hogwarts, A History. She paged through the early years, quickly scanning the pages she had memorized over and over. Periodically, she would read out loud, jumping from paragraph to paragraph.

“ _…four brightest witches and wizards of the time…four houses, each named for a founder…wizarding tournament…Gryffindor supplied a old hat for use in sorting students…North tower was added…Slytherin refused to teach potions to muggle-borns…_ ” She flipped forward several pages. “In 1247, the local laird asked to hold a tournament, using the castle…. Here it is, Ginny.” She handed Ginny the book, pointing to the section she had found.

“Can I borrow this, Hermione? I’ll bring it right back.”

“Sure. No problem.” With that, Hermione returned to the library and collected her things, heading for Ancient Runes. That night, she began reading about Alternative Magic, finding many fascinating things. As the clock was nearing midnight, she discovered something! This was a topic worthy of further study…and if it worked…well, maybe she could help Harry.

Two days later, even though it was Saturday, Hermione met with Lupin to discuss her project. “That would be very interesting, Hermione. I don’t know of anyone who has ever looked into that. It may require a lot of work to find material. Are you sure you want to pursue that?”

She immediately nodded. “I’ve thought about it, and I think it would be good. And, if the little bit I’ve read is correct, it might be useful…for Harry.” Remus immediately nodded, recognizing she was correct.

“How is Harry doing? Have you heard from him lately?”

“I got a letter a couple days ago. He is making some progress on things, but he didn’t say much specific.” Remus nodded, knowing that the mail was not completely secure. And there were people at the Ministry who might wish to read Harry’s mail.

“Well, if you write to him, tell him I said ‘hello.’” Hermione nodded, and left for the library, hoping Madam Pince had something for her to read.

Later that evening, Hermione was sitting at her desk, frantically reading the only three books she had found, trying to understand the concepts that were so foreign. The religious and worship elements seemed rather straightforward, even if they were primitive. The use of animal sacrifice and blood wasn’t that weird, although in the context it seemed rather…stupid. There was so much that seemed to be done for visual impact, not for results.

But the assault and healing concepts seemed interesting. And they really fit in with what Harry had written about doing the unexpected. As she read, her mind drifted to Snape… _Your defenses must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo._ She began to consider how her reading meshed with that idea…wouldn’t this be flexible and inventive? _Eventually, we’re going to have to use Dark Arts to defeat Voldemort. Is this what we need?_ The simple spells for good weren’t going to be enough to vanquish him. When she finally put down her quill, she discovered that Ron had already gone to bed…without her. She hoped he wasn’t mad.

Over in the Gryffindor tower, Ginny was sitting in bed with the curtains drawn and silencing spells in place. As had become a nightly event, she and Harry were talking…about this and that, using the mirrors as their personal instant messaging system. There was a brief lull in the conversation, and Harry suddenly grinned.

“What?” she said, seeing his eyes light up like fireworks.

“Ginny, I want you to do something for me.” He was still grinning, but somehow looked like a little boy about to embark on a questionable adventure.

“What?”

“Well…I want you to take off your…nightgown.”

“WHAT? WHY?”

“Because I…I miss you. And being able to see the real thing will make my fantasies much better.” Ginny blushed…a hundred different shades of red…as she processed his request…and what he was about to do. Then it struck her.

“Okay, Harry. But you have to put your mirror up so I can watch.”


	17. Harry

Chapter 17 – Harry’s First Assault

The October issue of The Quibbler was released and the front page was filled with a picture of Tom Riddle and a headline sure to catch people’s attention.

**The Dark Lord Revealed**

Inside, the story was brief, but guaranteed to insure readers would be back for more.

 

****

The Dark Lord – Not All He Seems to Be

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named isn’t all he claims to be. In fact, he’s much less, writes Rita Skeeter, who has spent much of the last two years examining his history. The Dark Lord has collected his followers (called Death Eaters) by preaching the values of pure-blooded wizardry, all the while concealing his own questionable parentage.

His mother was Merope Gaunt, a dim and homely girl who grew up in poverty and never attended school. She was the last of a lineage that reached back to Salazar Slytherin. His grandfather, Marvolo Gaunt, was severely unbalanced and spent much of his time talking to snakes.

His father, however, was a muggle, also named Tom Riddle; a commoner who abandoned the Dark Lord’s mother shortly after their marriage. It is unclear whether he left because he finally learned of her magical background, or because she stopped slipping him a love potion and he realized what had happened.

Regardless, the Dark Lord was born to a mother who had been abandoned by his muggle father and what remained of her own family. She died within hours of his birth, unable to deal with being the parent of Tom Riddle, the wizard who would become synonymous with evil. He even went so far as to change his name, believing that being Tom Riddle wasn’t good enough.

However, as he grew older, changing his name wasn’t enough He became determined to completely eradicate any knowledge of his background so he could justify his place in the wizarding world. When he was sixteen, he returned to his birthplace and killed his father and grandparents, causing the blame to fall upon his uncle Morfin, a half-wit who was the last remaining Gaunt. Morfin was sent to Azkaban, where he died…framed by the Dark Lord for a crime he did not commit.

Next: Tom Riddle was raised in an orphanage, where strange things seemed to happen and his days at Hogwarts were marked with controversy.

 

“My Lord? How do you wish to respond to this outrage?” The Dark Lord immediately recognized that this was aimed at his followers…a clever attack designed to create doubt. He just smiled.

“Bella, there is no point in worrying about this…drivel. It is not worth my time to respond.”

“But….”

“Bella, these are the twisted lies of a desperate man. The Minister and his famous aurors are on the run. Everywhere they look, they find destruction and loss. What else can they do but produce a show, a distraction to keep the people from seeing the truth.” He walked over to a table and picked up a piece of parchment, holding it aloft in his clenched hand. “This! This is where we need to focus our energies. Gringott’s contains what we need to succeed. It is there we must prevail, not in some…some back street rag!” His contempt was obvious, even if his bravado was forced. Unseen in his face was a question that roamed his mind. _How, exactly, did Rita Skeeter discover all of this?_

He began to ponder once again, searching for a clue, a snippet of information that might identify a chink in the goblin armor, a small crevice that he could expand to gain what he sought. Give me control of the money, and I will control the world, he thought, unknowingly echoing the words of Lenin so many years before.

He surveyed the group he had summoned to discuss his current plans. Next to Bellatrix was Avery, and then Snape, standing quietly, trying to remain out of the line of fire since he could sense that the article had upset the Dark Lord. Next to him, Draco looked like exactly what he was…a frightened little boy. He was in over his head…and he knew it. The Dark Lord was not happy with his performance, and being on the wrong side of the Dark Lord was not a good thing.

“Severus, where do we stand with the Goblins? Are they open to…persuasion?” Snape considered his answer

“They have revealed very little, my Lord. They are certainly not happy with their treatment lately, and, of course, there are still many unresolved issues from before. However, they seem to be waiting for someone to make them an offer, or perhaps one side to clearly gain the upper hand before revealing their own position.” It was a masterful statement, revealing nothing that wasn’t common knowledge. However, Snape’s days of being able to effectively dissimulate were over since he could no longer play the card of being a spy.

“Have you nothing more concrete? Have you made overtures to Ragnok?” Snape nodded. “And?”

“He simply doesn’t wish to respond. I suspect they haven’t really chosen sides. There are plenty of reasons for them to dislike the Ministry, and I have suggested they would enjoy greater…opportunities…with a change of leadership, but they seem uncertain.” He paused, and then continued, again choosing his words very carefully. “I suspect they might be more willing to negotiate if we could demonstrate something more openly.”

“Are you suggesting some show of force?” Snape pondered that for a moment and then responded.

“My Lord. The goblins seem to feel that as long as the movement is invisible, its future is in doubt. It was suggested that if we were to open an office in Diagon Alley, they would more readily believe in the alternatives we present.” While the others snorted openly at this proposal, Voldemort did not.

“Yes. I can see that point of view, even as unlikely as it might be. They would more easily believe in us if we could show our defiance more openly. A public confrontation might convince them of the things we propose. Would they respond to…a show of force…say a group of giants or a flock of dementors?”

“I do not believe so, my Lord. They are used to dealing with the heavy-handed approach of the Ministry, and it seems unlikely they would voluntarily trade one oppressor for another. I believe that is how they would view such a demonstration. And, as you are aware, dementors seem to have limited effect on goblins.” Voldemort paused again, considering his options.

“Is their security as good as they would have us believe?” The question wasn’t directly solely at Snape, so he did not immediately answer. However, when no one else spoke up, he decided to proceed.

“There is little doubt that they believe their vaults secure. However, like any other bank, there are always ways to defeat security arrangements, as you yourself did years ago. It is more likely a question of effort. Do you wish to utilize a significant portion of your assets in such an attack.” Voldemort smiled.

“Severus, as always, you are careful with every word. You have told me nothing I could not guess myself. Are you certain you are giving this your utmost effort?” Snape nodded as Bella grinned beside him.

“I am, my Lord. There are obviously limits to what one can do with a well-known face and every ministry employee on the lookout for you. It is impossible to reach the vaults of the bank without presenting an appropriate key or other identification. And the accounts of your known followers have been seized. Were any of us to appear at the counter of Gringotts, we would immediately be challenged.”

“Is there no one we could encourage to help us? Surely there are non-goblin employees who would be available for our efforts.” Snape nodded yet again.

“There are such people, however, they do not typically have access to the vault caverns. That function is restricted to the goblins themselves.”

“What about using a surrogate? Surely we could…ah…encourage someone to visit their vault, and simply join them in the journey.” Snape nodded again.

“That would indeed work, my Lord. And could be easily accomplished. However, I believe we would learn little. All of us have visited the vaults at one time or another. They remain as that always have been, accessed by the carts and opened only by the goblins.” The Dark Lord considered his words for a moment, while glancing at the Quibbler once again. Then he turned.

“Severus, I don’t think we are putting enough effort into this. Avery, I want you to talk with them. Take Mulciber. See if you can’t ‘convince’ them of the need for changes.” He turned and looked back at Severus. “Perhaps what we need here is a little more direct approach.” Snape did not answer, masking his feelings and closing his mind just as he felt the initial probings of his master.

“Now, Draco. You said you wanted to speak with me. What exactly do you need?” It sounded very much like a meeting with a friend, but Draco knew the tone was deceptive. The Dark Lord did not make small talk with anyone, especially a new, young Death Eater who had failed to complete his first assignment.

“I’m…concerned about my mother.” As he spoke, he offered a copy of the Daily Prophet, opened to an inside page with a series of short news stories. The Dark Lord took the paper and began to read.

**Ministry Conducts Additional Raids**

As a part of an ongoing investigation, the Department of Aurors and Department of Magical Law Enforcement conducted a joint raid at the home of Lucius Malfoy who is currently in Azkaban prison, serving a sentence after being convicted of crimes related to his support of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Malfoy has acknowledged being a member of the so-called Death Eaters.

A Ministry spokesman stated that numerous objects were seized in the raid, and Narcissa Malfoy, wife of Lucius Malfoy, was taken into custody on suspicion of supporting He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Draco Malfoy, their son, is being sought for his involvement in the death of Albus Dumbledore and is also suspected of being a Death Eater.

In a second raid, the Ministry searched an abandoned house in Fernwood Glen, reporting…

 

“Draco, I wouldn’t worry about this. The Ministry must keep up appearances, and making raids like this are good publicity.” Draco nodded, but his question went unanswered.

“It there anything we…er, I can do to free my mother?” Draco knew he was pushing the issue, but he was concerned.

“Draco, from time to time, we all must make sacrifices. Your mother’s sister Bellatrix spent many years in Azkaban, because she understood our long-term goals. And she did that when it was unclear that I was still alive.” Bellatrix smiled as the Dark Lord acknowledged her again, but Draco didn’t find this particularly reassuring. “I think we’ll be able to release your mother soon enough.” It was a pronouncement, and Draco understood the discussion was over.

“Now, tell me how you’re doing on your little project. Where is Potter?” Draco felt like he’d been body slammed. First, his concerns had been cavalierly dismissed, and then the Dark Lord wanted to know whether he’d found anything. And he hadn’t!

“My Lord. Potter seems to have disappeared. When he left the school, he returned to the home of his muggle relatives.” Draco knew that this wasn’t news, but it was a start, and he hoped it might demonstrate he knew something. “After his birthday, he no longer had the blood protection that Fumbledore provided, and he apparently left their home.” The Dark Lord laughed…that high pitched sadistic laugh which brought fear to everyone.

“Fumbledore? Where did that come from?”

“It was a name we had for him in Slytherin House. It was just something we….”

“You need not apologize, Draco. That’s actually a very apt description of the old fool.” Draco almost started to relax, but his comfort was short lived. “So, Potter is gone from their home, and no one knows where he is? Come now, Draco. Someone must know.”

“There are several who probably have information, but they are difficult to reach. The Weasleys probably know, and the mudblood Granger would know. I suspect that McGonagall would know too, but all of them are at Hogwarts. He was seen once in Flourish and Blotts, but other than that, he’s just disappeared.” Draco was trying to paint a picture of how difficult his task was, but it didn’t work.

“I think you need to make a little more effort, Draco. Have you considered asking his muggle relatives? They should be rather easy to persuade. Is there no one at Hogwarts who could ask around? I don’t think you’re taking this task very seriously.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“I expect better things from you, Draco. Last year, you took almost the entire year to accomplish a simple task. And even then, you had to have someone else finish the easiest part of it. Perhaps you do not truly believe in our cause.” It wasn’t a question, but the mere fact the Dark Lord spoke it meant he was unhappy. “You may go.” Draco merely nodded meekly. There was nothing more he could say, and nothing short of information would satisfy his master. 

Outside the door, Severus stood waiting for him. “That was not wise, Draco. The Dark Lord does not appreciate hearing bad news.”

“I’m concerned about my mother!”

“As am I, Draco. However, you must understand that such things do not concern the Dark Lord. His followers are expected to set their personal feelings aside. Your mother is quite likely all right.” Draco started to talk, but Snape cut him off. “Listen to me!” he hissed. “Your mother is being held. She will not be tortured or abused. They will question her from time to time, but she knows little. Your best hope for helping her is to complete your task.”

“She’s not your mother! You don’t care…any more than her sister does!” Draco was angry, and he allowed his anger to overflow.

“I do care, Draco. I care enough that I helped you deal with Dumbledore. I promised your mother I would look after you last year…and I did. I even made an unbreakable vow, which is not something to take lightly.” Snape was getting a little louder as they walked down the hallway. “Your mother has a very special place in my life, so I will not listen to you accusing me that I don’t care!” Snape was raising his voice, and Draco had seldom seen that before. Snape didn’t yell…and Draco sensed he was more than slightly upset.

“You need to learn your place. You are not wandering the halls with Crabb and Goyle now. You are the little fish in a big ocean…and little fish get gobbled up if they bother the big fish!” Draco was stunned. Snape was threatening him! When they reached the door to Draco’s room, Snape turned and looked at him.

“You have chosen a path that includes responsibilities…and accountability. The Dark Lord does not tolerate failure. And he deals harshly with repeated failures. I suggest you put more effort into your assignment. This is not Hogwarts! He is not Dumbledore! I can not protect you here!”

Draco turned and went into his room, throwing himself on the bed. Being a Death Eater wasn’t what he expected…and his entire life was in the toilet. He missed his mother. He missed his father. Hell, he even missed Pansy. He had been expelled from school, was on the run from the Ministry…. All his dreams seemed to be crashing down around him and his tears began again. Potter! It was always that damn **Potter!**


	18. A Horcrux Subdued

Chapter 18 – A Horcrux Subdued

Ginny stood in front of the head table, waiting for an appropriate opening before interrupting. McGonagall looked down and nodded.

“Professor, I wonder if I might have a word with you?” McGonagall nodded, and stood up, motioning Ginny to join her in the antechamber behind the dais.

“What is it, Miss Weasley?”

“I spoke with Harry last night, and he….”

McGonagall interrupted. “And how exactly did you do that?” Ginny grinned.

“Harry has a pair of mirrors. Sirius gave them to him. Apparently Sirius and James used them when they were in school. Anyway, they are linked so they show what the other mirror sees, and Harry and I use them to talk to each other.” McGonagall nodded, trying to decide if this represented any danger to the school.

“Where do you keep it…when you’re not using it.”

“Oh,” Ginny responded, recognizing her concern. “It’s on my nightstand. Harry added a charm that turns it into a regular mirror unless…well, it’s a secret.” McGonagall relaxed and smiled a little.

“Very well. I doubt there’s much danger then. So, you were saying about Harry…”

“He said to tell you that he needs to come to school tonight and talk with Professor Dumbledore about…part of his project.” The Headmistress knew only a little of Harry’s quest, and was just as happy to be uninvolved. It was one less worry for her, and she had quite enough on her plate.

“That will be fine, Miss Weasley. I assume you would like to talk with him, also?” McGonagall seemed remarkably pliant about their relationship, apparently acknowledging they were separated unfairly. Ginny immediately brightened.

“I’d like to…if I can. He said he would come during dinner so you won’t be inconvenienced.” McGonagall nodded.

“Why don’t you plan on meeting him. I’m sure Dobby can provide you with your meal later if you wish.” Ginny smiled, thinking tonight was going to be much better than she anticipated.

At four, Ginny ran back to her dorm and started getting ready, taking a quick shower and then brushing her hair. In some ways, she knew Harry wouldn’t notice…boys were just that way. But she wanted to feel special…she didn’t get to see Harry very often, at least not in person. It mattered to her…and it didn’t really matter to her if Harry didn’t notice.

At five, she walked up to the Gargoyle and spoke, waiting for the staircase to materialize. Once in the office, she sat waiting.

“Hello, Ginny.” She jumped, and then realized that Dumbledore had spoken to her.

“Er…hello, Professor. How are you?” She realized how stupid the question was as soon as she uttered it, but Dumbledore didn’t seem the least bit upset.

“I am fine, Ginny. I must say that my life is different now. I miss seeing the students, and I certainly miss dealing with the mayhem. I sometimes think Fred and George Weasley were the best thing that ever happened to Hogwarts.” Ginny tried to suppress a grin, but couldn’t. “They did provide a certain change of pace from time to time, and I’m finding I really miss that.” Instead she just nodded her agreement.

“So, does the fact that you are here suggest we are expecting a visitor?”

“Erm…yes.” She looked around at the other portraits, all of whom seemed to be watching and listening.

“It’s okay, Ginny. You may speak freely. All of my associates are well aware of what has been happening.”

“Harry is coming to see you, Professor. He has found another of the Horcruxes.”

“That’s wonderful, Ginny. I see he has taken you into his confidence regarding his quest.” Dumbledore paused before continuing. “I assume you realize he didn’t want to do that. He felt that would be placing you in great danger.” Ginny looked down, and then responded.

“He didn’t…originally. He said we had to be apart. He wouldn’t share anything…he wouldn’t even tell me why. He wouldn’t talk to Ron or Hermione either. Finally, he decided he would tell us what he was doing…and…then we talked him into letting us help.” Dumbledore bowed his head, and after a moment spoke again.

“Harry is still struggling with his secret, Ginny. I have never shared this with anyone but Harry, but perhaps it is time to let you know. He has probably told you the specifics of the prophecy that was made about him.” Ginny nodded. “It is important to understand that Harry is still questioning what power he has that the Dark Lord knows not. He has always assumed it was a power such as…well, something tangible, a weapon to wield or something. But it is not.”

“Harry’s power is his ability to love, his ability to share himself with others, his willingness to be loved. Voldemort can not defeat him as long as he has that connection to those who care about him. Ginny, it is you, and Ron and Hermione, that provide that protection, not by defending him, but by caring about him.” Ginny began to weep, finally understanding more about why Harry was so special.

“I know you care very deeply about him. And he cares for you also…I have seen it in his eyes and the way he talks about his friends. It is not just your wand and your abilities that support him, Ginny. It is also your heart.” Ginny smiled through her tears, knowing that Harry might not have her wand all the time…but he always had her heart. She was about to speak when green flames rose in the fireplace and Harry appeared, carrying a small package. Ginny ran to him.

“Harry,” she said, wrapping her arms round him and kissing his cheek. “I love you.” Harry smiled and pulled back slightly, allowing his mouth to find hers and kissing a bit more intimately than might be normal, considering the number of portraits watching. Amazingly, none of them seemed to feel the need to comment on this breech of student behavior.

“Good evening, Professor. I have something for you to see.”

“Good evening, Harry. Ginny tells me you have found another Horcrux.” Harry actually looked a little downcast.

“It’s not actually another one. Well, it is…but.” He tried to figure out how to tell Dumbledore their trip to the lake had been a wasted effort.

“The locket which we recovered from the lake was a decoy. It had been tampered with by someone before it was placed there.” Dumbledore looked surprised, but Harry continued. “Regulus Black apparently found out about it, and found out what it was. He stole the real locket and replaced it with a substitute. Then he put a note inside the replacement, telling Voldemort he had taken it. We figured out the note, and that led us to this locket.” Harry unwrapped the package, holding up the locket by its chain. The Slytherin S was clearly visible.

“I haven’t opened it, because I wasn’t sure how…and I assume it is also protected in some way. I haven’t found a spell to deal with a Horcrux, so I wasn’t sure what to do next. That’s why I came tonight.” Dumbledore folded his hands together, and looked at his long, crooked fingers for a moment. Harry set the locket on a small stool in front of the portrait and stood back.

“Well, you have done an excellent job, Harry. So, we need to defeat the protection and then deal with the piece of Voldemort’s soul that it contains. Have you any ideas, Harry?”

“I don’t really know, Professor. From what I’ve read, the Horcrux…or the actual piece of the soul, isn’t corporeal, so I assume if we open it, we wouldn’t see anything. I don’t know if it can travel or levitate by itself, but if we open it, it might just leave…like a ghost or something, and then we wouldn’t know where it was.”

“Very good, Harry. Do you remember what we tried at the lake? You asked if we couldn’t get the locket by simply calling for it.” Harry slowly agreed. _Accio Horcrux_ hadn’t resulted in anything, but Dumbledore had said it was worth a try. “Harry, I think you should consider a piece of the soul as just like the person himself.” Again, Harry thought about what Dumbledore was saying. He was teaching again, expecting Harry to learn from what he said.

_Well, if it is just like a person, then… I know how to kill a person, even though I’ve never done it. I guess I should try._ Harry pulled Ginny back a bit, and pulled out his wand and then stopped. “Professor, is there any way to tell if the…the soul is still in there?”

“There is a charm which will detect life, Harry. I suspect that would be a good place to start. Do you know it?” Harry shook his head. “The incantation is Revelare Vita.

Harry just looked at the locket, and then raised his wand. “ _ **Revelare Vita!**_ ” The locket glowed bright purple for a moment, and then returned to normal.

“ I would say that it still contains the soul, Harry.” Harry nodded, and then raised his wand again, thinking about what he was about to do. He had never killed before, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to now…but he had no real choice. He knew that using an unforgivable curse required mental focus, so he cleared his mind and concentrated on Voldemort. He could hear his mother screaming, and he thought of the little graveyard in Godric’s Hollow as he swung his wand down. “ ** _Avada Kedavra!_** ”

Harry never felt such power in his wand, even when he and Voldemort had dueled in the graveyard. He could feel the raw energy as it surged forward, a blinding green streak flying from his wand and enveloping the locket, accompanied by the roar of a passing freight train. Ginny screamed and jumped back, falling back against a table as the sheer noise and power of the spell assaulted her. For a moment the entire room reflected the greenish glow as the locket absorbed the vortex unleashed from Harry’s wand.

“Wow!” Harry exclaimed, surprising even himself with what he had unleashed.

“That was quite impressive, Harry,” Dumbledore observed. “I hope you will remember that is not a spell for daily use.” Harry turned to stare at the portrait, finding a smiling Dumbledore looking back at him. “However, I do hope you can summon that power again…when the final confrontation requires it.” Harry just nodded, knowing now that he would have no trouble with the curse when he stood face to face with Voldemort. His mind returned to the task at hand, and he walked over to look more closely at the locket. He did not touch it, but when he placed his hand near, he could feel heat rising from the golden shell.

Standing back a little, he again raised his wand again. “ _ **Revelare Vita!**_ ” This time the locket remained unchanged, and Harry turned to the portrait, silently asking the obvious question.

“I believe, Harry, that the portion of Voldemort’s soul residing within the locket has been dispatched.” Harry walked over and placed him arm around Ginny’s shoulders, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “It’s over, Ginny. That’s one less thing to worry about.” She moved closer to him, snuggling into his embrace. She had never, ever, seen a spell with that much power, but she thought something even more significant had just happened. Given what Dumbledore had said, she thought Harry was now stronger than ever. Harry lowered his wand, and turned, pulling Ginny into his arms and kissing her again. His world…their world…was now a little bit safer. Not safe, but at least better. 

“Now, Harry, there is something else I believe we should discuss.” Both Harry and Ginny looked up. “As you know, Fawkes is a phoenix. He has had a difficult time adjusting to my new situation, given the loyalty he feels.” Harry knew all about the relationship between Dumbledore and the bird. At the Ministry, Fawkes had even flown into the path of a killing curse, saving Dumbledore and helping to drive off Voldemort.

“Fawkes still feels that loyalty, Harry. He wishes to be some place where his values are shared and where he might…contribute. I have suggested to him that he might wish to join you, given the events you have shared with him in the past.” Harry’s eye went wide, and Ginny began to tear again, remembering her escape from the Chamber of Secrets and having seen Fawkes save Harry from the venom of the basilisk. “If you agree, Fawkes would like to come and live with you.” Harry was overwhelmed. A Phoenix as a pet…well, actually much more than a pet! The bird was more like…an associate…a friend. This phoenix was also a part of his wand!

Harry quickly nodded his assent, and Fawkes flew over to his shoulder, perching gentling and singing in his ear. Ginny reached up and stroked the proud head, sensing the power of the wonderful bird. Harry turned to the bird.

“Fawkes, I would honored to have you share my home.” The bird looked at him, his eyes somehow conveying his respect for Harry and their shared loyalty for Dumbledore. With a flash of fire, Fawkes disappeared, and Harry knew he would find him waiting at home. “Thank you, Professor.”

“It was not my decision, Harry. Fawkes came to your aid before…because he knew of your dedication and loyalty. He has not forgotten.” Dumbledore looked away for a moment, and Harry thought he could see tears forming in the portrait’s eyes. “You will want to take his pedestal with you when you leave tonight.” Harry nodded, and walked over to pick it up, placing the now-inert locket in the bowl of the stand.

He walked back, beginning to contemplate his return home, but started by setting things down and taking Ginny into his arms again. They were about to kiss when the door opened and their embrace was interrupted when Minerva walked in. Harry giggled a little as he released Ginny and turned towards the door. “Good evening, Professor.” Minerva smiled, trying to appear blasé about what she had encountered.

“Good evening, Harry. Have you and Professor Dumbledore been able to speak?”

“Yes, Professor. I…well…we, have solved another piece of the puzzle.” Minerva didn’t ask anything more as she moved to her desk. Then she looked up.

“Miss Weasley, there is a small study room just down the hall…behind the painting of the warthogs. I think you should probably show Harry what’s inside.” Ginny looked very puzzled, but made to follow her directions. “Potter, I assume you have your cloak with you. Please use it while you are in the hallways…since you are not supposed to be here.” Harry was also confused, not by her instructions, but by the information she seemed to be sharing. _What was so special about a study room?_ There were lots of them around the castle. “When you need to leave, just come back to the office. Miss Weasley has the password.” Harry nodded, and then turned back to Dumbledore.

“Thank you, Professor.”

“For what, Harry. I didn’t do anything. It is you who we should thank…for you have made the world a might bit safer for all of us tonight.” Dumbledore’s eyes had that little twinkle about them once again…and Harry found himself wishing the real Dumbledore was still around.

“Ginny, where are we going?” Harry asked, as he walked along beside her.

“I have no idea,” she said as she stopped and pulled the painting aside, finding a door which she had never noticed before. Then she opened it and walked into the room, Harry close behind her. It wasn’t really a study room…at least not the normal kind. It was true it had a desk, but it also had a couch and a fireplace and its own bathroom. Harry threw off his cloak and plopped on the couch…patting the cushion beside him. He knew exactly what kind of studying he had in mind!


	19. Hermione and the Dark Arts

Chapter 19 – Hermione and the Dark Arts

Ron and Hermione were sitting together at breakfast when the mail arrived. It seemed as if everyone got a letter every day, usually from parents seeking reassurance that the school was secure. Dean had suggested creating a form letter for response, with the usual “School is great…lots of homework…having a wonderful time…” lines preprinted. Thus far, the year had been amazingly normal and probably the biggest excitement was that Slytherin might not field a Quidditch team this year, simply because there weren’t enough people in the house who were interested in playing.

Today’s owls brought Ron had a letter from his mother, asking the usual questions and seeking confirmation that Ginny was also okay. Hermione unrolled her Daily Prophet and gulped a little as she started to read.

 

****

Arrests at Gringotts

A brief battle between Ministry officials and the forces of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named resulted in the arrest of two Death Eaters, Marduk Avery and Onager Mulciber. According to a spokesgoblin for Gringotts, the two approached the Vault Managers, demanded access to the underground, and threatened to use Unforgivable Curses when they did not comply.

The two were identified by security goblins as they entered the building, and the Ministry was notified. According to Edward Lighthorse III, head of the Department of Aurors, a full squad was dispatched to the bank immediately. After a brief exchange of spells, the two were taken into custody. No one was reported injured, although one auror was admitted to St Mungos complaining of unspecified spell damage and a superfluous set of ears. The hospital had no comment on the matter.

 

As she scanned the rest of the paper, she found another interesting story tucked onto the bottom of page 7.

**Suspect Released**

Stan Shunpike, an employee of The Knight Bus, has been released from Azkaban after an investigation found he had no connections to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Edward Lighthorse III, head of the Department of Aurors, stated that a thorough investigation found no evidence Shunpike had been involved in an incident where several giants were released into the market area in Norwich, East Anglia. A number of muggles were injured during the attack, and the popular Alan Partridge show on Radio Norwich was interrupted for a time.

 

Both Ron and Ginny looked at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation. She said nothing, but simply handed the paper across the table to them, pointing to the front-page article.

“Well, that’s two more we don’t have to worry about any more,” Ron said, reaching for another piece of toast. “I wonder if Harry knew about that?” Hermione just shrugged.

“He didn’t say anything last night,” Ginny offered, and Ron looked at her with that “big brother” look. He knew they talked every night, but still…. Hermione saw Lupin leaving the dais and excused herself, wanting to talk with him before her morning classes. Ron had the morning off, and was planning some serious study time in the library.

“Professor?” she said as she walked into his classroom behind him.

“Ah. Good morning, Hermione.”

“I wanted to let you know my books finally came in and I got started on my project yesterday.”

“And what have you found?”

She took a deep breath. “Well, one of the books talks about Vodun entirely as a religion. It came from Africa originally, and it does have a lot of mystic themes about it. But there are a whole lot of parts I don’t understand yet. It says there are many different spirits involved, and people are often possessed by the spirits.”

“Does that mean the magical properties are limited to religious usage?”

“No. And that’s the interesting part. The other book talks a whole lot about what happened when the Africans were taken to the new world as slaves and how the dark aspects became more dominant. That’s when voodoo really got started.”

“So, do you think it has any application for the class?”

“I…I think so. I’m going to have to try some things, and the problem is, I really need to have somebody else to help.” Remus smiled.

“Would Ron or someone help you?” It was Hermione’s turn to smile.

“I don’t think he’d like it very much. Whoever volunteers is going to be my practice target, and that probably won’t be much fun.” Remus laughed, understanding her dilemma.

“Well, continue your reading, Hermione. I think this could be a very interesting area for the class to explore. And it’s certainly something that they won’t find elsewhere.” She quickly agreed and left, heading for McGonagall’s classroom, and her own class of first years.

Just before lunch, Hermione headed down to Hagrid’s, hoping to find some raw materials for her project.

“’Bout time you remembered where I lived, _Perfessor_.” Hermione just grinned at his needling.

“Hagrid, I need some help with a project.” His eyes perked up. Since none of his favorite seventh years were taking his classes, he often felt somewhat abandoned by his old friends, even though down deep he knew it wasn’t true.

“What’er ya need, Hermione?”

“You’re going to laugh, but I need some straw…to make a doll.” Hagrid did indeed laugh, only because the request seemed so bizarre.

“You’re makin’ a doll?” She nodded.

“It’s for a project for Dark Arts. There’s a type of magic that uses simple dolls as a part of the spells, and I need to make a couple to learn about it.” Hagrid, just shrugged, knowing little more than the basics…the magic he used (unofficially, of course) every day.

“I got some out by the pumpkins. I keep it around fer…well…fer some a the animals.” Hagrid was a little vague about why he had it, but Hermione didn’t really care. It wasn’t like he was asking her to take a Blast Ended Skrewt for a walk. Back in her Head Girl office, Hermione started reading, looking at the illustrations and trying to match what she was making with the pictures and the text. She made a doll of each sex and then set them aside and continued reading.

At dinner, Hermione and Ron compared notes on the day. As Hermione began to tell him about her class of First Years, everyone at the table crowded closer to hear her story. It was like re-living their own initiation to Transfiguration. As she was discussing the first attempts at a spell, Lavender and Parvati, who were sitting further down the table, decided it was time to go study. As they passed, Lavender paused and whispered something Ron’s ear. It would have gone completely unnoticed if Hermione wasn’t sitting directly across from him.

Later that evening, Hermione began writing the first report on her project, a short parchment, detailing the steps she needed to take in her experiments, and a longer report for Remus on what she’d found so far.

At Grimmauld Place, Harry was also writing. Earlier in the day, he added new red circles to his pictures, taking Avery and Mulciber off of the To Do list and adding them to the Done list. He had hit a wall with the Horcrux search, and decided to consider other things for a bit. As he sifted through memories of the last year with Dumbledore, he decided to sketch out the skeleton for Rita’s next article.

The next morning, everyone was up early. Ginny ate quickly and headed out for her regular class with Lupin. Ron and Hermione both dawdled for neither of them had an early class. Hermione was planning on a quick meeting with McGonagall to discuss the progress of her Second Year class and Ron intended to work on potion for independent study. With Hermione teaching, and Harry and the Prince’s book no longer available, Ron was finding Potions even more challenging than before. And with Harry gone, Slughorn also seemed less interested in his progress

Ron reached out for one last drink of orange juice before leaving when Lavender bumped into him, spilling the juice down the front of his robes. Hermione laughed and pulled out her wand as Lavender apologized and walked on. Then a thought occurred to Hermione.

“What did she want last night?” Ron looked perplexed. “She came over and whispered in your ear while we were eating dinner, remember?”

“Oh. Well…I guess she’s forgiven me for breaking up with her.” Hermione sensed danger.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she said something like she still liked me…and if you and I ever….” His voice tailed off as he realized this wasn’t something that would make his girlfriend happy. He decided to explain further. “She’s been doing that since we got back. I think it’s like Harry. She’s just interested in me again since I’m Head Boy.” Again, Ron just didn’t quite cotton to Hermione’s perspective.

“Well, she can forget it. You’re not going anywhere.” She looked mad, and then grinned. “You’re not going anywhere without me, that is.” Hermione wasn’t being possessive…it was just a statement of fact about the feelings they both felt. Then Hermione’s face split into a huge grin and she started laughing.

“What?”

“I think I just found my volunteer,” she said, rising to head out. Ron had no idea what she meant. But he would soon find out.

Just before dinner, Ron returned to their common room after Quidditch practice to find Hermione deep in study. While she had a book propped up on her desk, she seemed far more interested in the little straw doll in her lap, talking to it and turning it over and over. Ron didn’t really stop to inquire, just kissing her cheek as he headed for a shower before the evening meal. When he came back out, she had cleaned off her desk, and together they headed for dinner, holding hands as they walked through the hallways. At the corner, they discovered a pair of Ravenclaw first years being terrorized by Peeves. Hermione pulled her wand.

“Peeves, your out of here!”

“Not doin’ nuttin. Not doin’ nuttin at all,” he said as he dropped another pellet of stinksap onto the cowering girls.

“Peeves, I’ll summon the Bloody Baron.” She sounded mean, and Ron had also drawn his wand.

“ _Heady Girl and Heady Boy…caught old Peevesy with his toy_ ,” he sang and floated off through the wall.

“ _ **Scourgify!**_ ” Ron said, cleaning up the mess. The first years looked completely mortified and ran away without speaking. He turned to Hermione. “I wish Peeves was the worst thing we had to deal with.” She nodded, and they continued on towards dinner.

Throughout dinner, Ginny regaled them with her account of the Quidditch practice. Apparently there were things going on that Ron as goalkeeper didn’t get to see…things that hearkened back to the days of Fred and George. “I think Sloper used his wand, because the bludger kept dodging the bat like it had eyes,” Ginny said, her eyes tearing from her laugher. Everyone was listening to Ginny, but Hermione was focused on other things and noticed that down the table Lavender and Parvati were done and getting up to leave. She prepared for action, reaching into her robes and retrieving one of the dolls, along with a pointed wood skewer. If she came close…. 

Parvati stopped right behind Ron, apparently because she dropped something on the floor. As she bent over, Lavender bumped her and she fell over, laughing as she hit the floor. Lavender pretended to trip against her and fell into Ron, grabbing his shoulders. “Whoops! Sorry Ron.”

As Parvati got up, Lavender was grinning as if to congratulate her for a masterful performance. They started to walk on when Hermione struck. “Ouch!” Lavender exclaimed as she stopped and reached for her knee. Everyone in the immediate area turned to look as she lost her balance and fell ungracefully to the floor. Parvati didn’t know quite how to react, unsure if this was a continuation of the earlier pratfall. Ignoring her friend’s pained expression, she helped Lavender back to her feet, and they set off again.

They slowed as they reached the door, waiting for the queue in front of them to move along. Suddenly, Lavender’s foot folded under her and she went down again, planting herself face-first on the slate floor. The crowd at the door turned and watched as she got back up slowly, her face sporting an abrasion that was sure to turn into a colorful bruise by morning.

“What happened?’ Parvati asked, concerned about her friend.

“I don’t know. My foot just…it was like I stepped on a nail or something.” With the pain now gone, and no lasting effects, Lavender began to worry about her appearance as the others just moved on. Hermione said nothing and placed her toys back in her robe. Her first experiment was completed.


	20. Petunia in Peril

Chapter 20 - Petunia in Peril

It was Friday evening, just after dinner, and Professor McGonagall was sitting at her desk, busy with the usual paperwork. She, and every portrait, jumped as the fireplace exploded in flames and Harry Potter stepped out, wiping a piece of soot from his glasses and adjusting his cloak.

“Good evening, Professor. I’m sorry to startle you like that.” Minerva took a deep breath and then smiled a little.”

“Hello, Pot…er, Harry. How are you?”

“Not bad, Professor. I ran across something today…something that might mean…well, I thought I should ask Professor Dumbledore for his opinion.” He nodded towards Dumbledore’s portrait that was smiling with the usual twinkle back in his eyes.

“Good evening, Harry. How can I help you?”

Harry looked back to Minerva who smiled and then got up. “I’ll just leave you two to talk.” Harry started to protest that she could certainly stay, but she demurred. “I have a couple students to talk to. I’ll be back shortly.” Harry nodded, and pulled a chair over towards the portrait as she left the room.

“Now, what was it you wanted to tell me Harry?”

“Professor, I think I found something. I was looking at Tom Riddle’s background again. I thought I might see if anyone was still alive who knew him at the orphanage. I thought maybe those two children that he took into the cave might still be alive…and maybe I could ask.” He stopped, knowing Dumbledore would know what he meant.

“And what did you find, Harry?”

“Well, I was checking the records, and I found out that Mrs. Cole…you remember her, don’t you?”

“Yes, Harry,” he responded, sighing as he remembered their meeting. “I certainly do remember her.”

“Well, I figured she would be dead by now. But I checked and….” He looked around, noticing that almost every other portrait was listening.

“It’s okay, Harry. None of these portraits will tell anyone else.”

“Well…she is dead. But, well, she died just before Tom Riddle started his seventh year, the day before!” Dumbledore looked surprised. “I finally found a local paper…a muggle paper that reported it. She was found in her office, but they couldn’t find any cause of death. I thought….”

Dumbledore’s expression changed immediately. This was clearly a new development. “Harry, I fear you may have found something very significant.” Harry nodded; he thought so too. “If Tom killed her, he might have had a reason beyond his…loathing for his childhood. He would likely consider her killing to be significant…one that he might well use to create another Horcrux.” Harry nodded for he had reasoned the same way.

“So, Professor, if he killed her just before he returned to school, he could have made the Horcrux here…at school.” Dumbledore silently nodded. “Could he have found something here…something from Ravenclaw?” Dumbledore was about to respond when the door to the office opened and Ginny walked in, followed by Hermione, Ron, and Neville.

“Harry,” Ginny yelled, “McGonagall told us you were here.” Harry was surprised that Minerva would do that, but stood up and hugged Ginny regardless.

“Hi guys. How’s school?” They traded hugs and greetings and snippets of small talk for a minute, and then Harry remembered Dumbledore. “I’m sorry, Professor.”

“That’s all right, Harry. I have nothing else to do but hang around here…and I have no doubt your friends have missed seeing you. I’ll be here when you want to talk some more. In the meantime, I’ll consider what you’ve suggested.” Harry nodded, and was about to return to his friends when the fireplace exploded in green flames and Mad Eye Moody’s head appeared.

“Potter! The Ministry just detected magic at your old house…the muggle place.” Harry was shocked.

“What…who would…”

“I don’t know, but I suspect someone is looking for you.”

Harry looked around, thinking about the options available. There weren’t many. “Who else knows?”

“Lighthorse told me. He said he would go, but it was up to you.” Harry nodded, knowing what that meant. He looked around, seeing the office and his friends…seeing Dumbledore’s Army. He pulled out his wand and grabbed a goblet from the desk.

“ ** _Portus!_** ” The goblet trembled in a blue glow and then grew silent. “Do you all have your wands?” It was a pointless question…everyone carried their wands all the time these days. They all nodded.

“We’ll land at the park down the street. Be prepared for anything.” The group crowded together and Harry spoke again. “One, two, three,” and they were off.

It was a dark, gloomy windless evening in Little Whinging. There was no one was in the park…and then five people appeared, bumping into each other as they materialized. “Where do we go, Harry?” Neville asked, having never been anywhere near Harry’s old home.

“It’s right down there. Look, I don’t know what’s up…it’s possible that they’ve already gone but be prepared for anything. Ron, we’ll go around to the front windows and see if we can tell what’s happening.” Ron nodded, being the only one who had ever seen the house. They ran quickly but quietly, leapfrogging from shrubs to cars, taking advantage of anything to remain mostly unseen.

As they neared the house, Harry began to experience funny feelings. He held up his hand to signal a stop, and then spoke in a whisper. “Dementors, I think. Remember your Patronus.” They all nodded again, and started up the driveway, creeping around the car and towards the living room windows. With every step, it seemed to grow colder. Harry pointed at Hermione, Ginny, and Neville and whispered, “Stay back here for now…just in case. We’re just going to look.” He grabbed Ron and they crawled up to the window, peering in from opposite corners.

There wasn’t much to see, but what was in view looked bad. Vernon, his face contorted with fear and agony, was on his knees, looking up at a dark cloaked figure with his wand drawn. There was a dementor floating near the staircase, and possibly another one near the kitchen door. Harry couldn’t hear much, but it was obvious that the intruder was threatening Vernon. Harry motioned to Ron and they backed off, sneaking back to the group.

“There’s at least one Death Eater inside, and probably two dementors. We couldn’t see my aunt or Dudley, so they might be anywhere. I think they’re probably in the kitchen.” The words of Tzu that Harry had read come zooming back into his mind as he planned their assault. **Attack and envelope. Utilize the flanks. Appear where you are not expected.**

“Okay. They might expect us to come in through the door, but I don’t think they expect us at all. Ron, when I tell you, break the window. Neville, are you up to a Patronus?” Neville nodded, gripping his wand a little tighter. “Okay, you take the dementor on the right…drive him back out the front door. Hermione, you take the one on the left…take him out through the kitchen, but watch out…there might be another Death Eater. Ginny, you back me up, and watch Hermione. If she needs help, go through the dining room and trap him in between you.” He looked into their faces. They had battled together before, without a plan. This time was different. “Let’s go.” A moment later, they were in place.

Ron yelled, and the window exploded into shards, flying everywhere. “ ** _Expecto Patronum!_** ” two voices chorused, and a pair of silver clouds went flying through the opening, followed immediately by “ ** _Expelliarmus!_** ” The Death Eater was disarmed before he even realized they were there. Hermione was at the kitchen door in seconds, driving the dementor before her. As she opened the door, a red streak narrowly missed her head, and she dropped to the floor, seeking cover behind a china hutch. Ginny ran to the dining room, flanking the kitchen and trapping Hermione’s assailant between them. Neville was nearing the front door, and his dementor had decided it was better off leaving.

Harry moved in, trying to improve his angle on his moving target, but just as he spoke Vernon rolled over, bumping into his ankles and knocking him off his feet. “ ** _Disunion Incarcio!_** ’ Harry’s spell struck the ceiling, burning a hole through to the second floor as his wand went flying. He started to scramble after it, only to find that the Death Eater had made it to the staircase and recovered his wand. Ron tried to get into the action, but couldn’t get a clean shot around the couch. Harry was defenseless as he scrambled to recover his wand. When he looked up he found Thomas Nott grinning as he raised his wand.

Ginny screamed something from the dining room, and Nott’s hands immediately went to his face, swatting and flailing as he screamed at the bogies attacking him. Harry recovered his wand, rising to his knees and yelling again. “ _ **Disunion Incarcio!**_ ’ Nott went rigid and hit the floor, his wand beside him, his face still covered with bogies. As Harry got up, Hermione appeared from the kitchen, leading a very pale Petunia.

“Where’s Dudley?” Hermione pointed at the kitchen.

“He’s all right…just pretty shaken.” Petunia sat down on the couch as Vernon crawled up the recliner and collapsed into a sitting position. “There’s another one in there, Harry. I froze him, but you need to stop him from leaving.” Harry understood, knowing that he had the best Anti-Disapparation Jinx. They all stood, looking at each other…Neville, Ginny, Ron, Hermione…and Harry. The Army had fought another engagement…and this time they all came out uninjured. Slowly, as the adrenaline burned off, they began to smile as post-battle feelings began to emerge. 

Harry went into the kitchen, returning quickly and supporting Dudley, who fell to the couch next to his mother. “Ginny, could you get them something to drink?” She quickly conjured glasses of something. Petunia accepted hers without question. Dudley wasn’t quite back to handling liquids, so she set his on the coffee table. Vernon, who was starting to recover, looked at his with disdain, and then began to sputter as Moody and Arthur Weasley appeared at the window, surveying the damage inside.

“Everybody okay, Harry?”

Harry nodded. “There were two of them. Nott and Rabastan Lestrange.” Harry pointed to Nott and then the kitchen. Arthur climbed inside, stopping when his robe caught on the glass remaining in the frame. He smiled, and then hugged Ginny. “How did you all get here?”

“I was at Hogwarts when Professor Moody found me. We were all together, so we all came.”

“What were you doing at Hogwarts, Harry?”

“I went to talk with Dumbledore…or, well…his portrait.” That made sense, and Arthur nodded.

“Alastor, can you take charge of these two?” Moody nodded, and waved his wand. Arthur looked around and started repairing the damage. The Dursleys just stared as the window re-assembled itself. Harry pointed to the ceiling, and Arthur swung his wand again, completely repairing the hole. Vernon began to make noise.

“What….what was that?”

“That was a dementor,” Harry responded, knowing that he had discussed the subject with the Dursleys before. Vernon just shook as he remembered his fears.

“Drink that,” Arthur suggested. “It will make you feel better.” For probably the first time ever, Vernon did what a wizard suggested, and the effect was immediately evident. As he began to recover, McGonagall showed up, looking very relieved as she took inventory of her students.

“What were they doing here? What was that about, boy?” Before Harry could answer, McGonagall spoke.

“They were followers of the Dark Lord. I assume they came here thinking you had knowledge of where Harry might be.”

“They…that was that…Voldy guy?”

“It wasn’t Voldemort himself, but it was some of his followers,” Harry said. Vernon paused for a moment, and McGonagall spoke again.

“Mr. Dursley, I am very sorry. I’m very surprised that this happened. I didn’t expect they would bother you after Harry left your home. They are well aware that Harry has come of age, so there is no reason for them to be here.”

“And what’s your excuse boy? Why ARE you here?” Vernon’s tone seemed to upset Arthur more than anyone else.

“Look here. Harry just saved your life. He knows that you do not know where he lives now. There is nothing you could have told them. When he found out you were being attacked, he could have just ignored it…and done nothing. But instead, he and these other children came to your defense. They risked their lives to save yours! I think you should be a might bit grateful.” Harry looked rather embarrassed, even though Arthur was completely correct. Minerva continued before Vernon could respond.

“If you will allow it, I will magically hide your house. It will have no effect upon you or any of your friends, but no magical person would be able to find you.” Harry nodded, thinking this was probably a good idea. “Harry, would you be willing to be their secret keeper?” Harry nodded again. He was probably the only person who might need to know where the Dursley’s lived, although at the moment he couldn’t think of a single reason why he needed to know.

Vernon looked at Petunia. His face was a mass of confusion, but finally he looked at Harry and spoke. “You came here to save us? From those…dementoids?” Harry just nodded. Vernon didn’t know how to say thank you. They were words he seldom used, and never when addressing Harry. “Well, ah…thank you,” he said, looking carefully at the carpet in front of his chair.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Harry said, smiling slightly. “Thank my friends…they came…and they don’t even know you.” Vernon looked up again, clearly uncomfortable having to be polite to “Harry’s kind.” Arthur broke the embarrassing silence.

“Harry, is there anything else I need to repair?”

“I don’t know. Hermione, is there damage in the kitchen?”

“There were a couple things knocked over…and I think I broke the cuckoo clock.” Harry grinned as Arthur started that way.

“Maybe my Aunt Petunia can go with you. She can tell you if anything else is broken or out of place.” Harry was being overly nice, but he knew Petunia would find something wrong if she wasn’t given the chance to check everything. He turned to her. “Are you okay?” She still looked rather shocked, but nodded and got up to join Arthur in the kitchen. Minerva looked at Dudley who seemed to have recovered.

“Do you have a small piece of parchment…er, paper that I might borrow.” Dudley nodded dumbly and pointed to the notepad by the telephone. Minerva quickly wrote something and then handed it to Harry. He read it and nodded, holding out his hand. Vernon frowned as she pulled out her wand and pointed at Harry’s hand. Both he and Dudley started as his hand turned blue.

“There. Now, Mr. Dursley, no one but Harry and I know your address. No magical person will be able to find your house again, unless Harry tells them where you live.” Vernon just continued to stare, uncomfortable about seeing magic performed so openly in front of him. Minerva looked around and then spoke again. “Well, it seems that everything has been resolved here.” She looked at Hermione, Ron, and Neville. “I will see you all back in my office shortly, I assume.” They nodded and she disappeared with a little pop. Both Dudley and Vernon gasped; everyone else just grinned. Arthur returned from the kitchen with a message.

“Harry, your Aunt would like to speak with you.” Harry wasn’t certain what she wanted, but he assumed it couldn’t be good. He walked towards the kitchen, assuming this wouldn’t be a friendly conversation. When he arrived, he found he was wrong.

“Thank you for coming to save us, Harry.” Harry didn’t know quite what to say, having seldom heard auxh words from his aunt. “I…have something for you, Harry,” she continued. She held out a small stack…a couple of books and some other things. “Your mother gave these to me…the last time I saw her.” Harry was confused. He knew that Petunia and his mother hadn’t seen each other since…well, for a long time. His confusion evidently showed.

“I saw her once after your parents got married.” She looked towards the door. “Vernon doesn’t know. I never told him. We were both pregnant, and…well. Anyway, she gave me some things. I don’t know why, but she said something about keeping them…in case.”

“In case?”

“I didn’t know what she meant, but she said she was in some danger. I don’t think she meant that you would…well…. I don’t really know. But, I think it’s time you had them.” Harry glanced at the stack, wondering what this all meant. Then he really looked at what he held. 

On top, there was a picture…a wizard picture. It was James and Lily…and Sirius and Remus. They were standing in the yard in Godric’s Hollow. His mother was clearly pregnant. Harry just gulped, feeling the tears start to flow. It was a picture he’d never seen before, and it brought him back to his old house again. He looked down, trying to gather his memories and put them back in the box for a moment. Then he looked up, his eyes glistening a bit. When he looked at Petunia, he saw she was tearing also. Without thinking, he put the books on the counter and hugged her.

“Thank you. For everything.” She just sobbed for a moment, and then collected herself.

“We’d better go back. Your friends are probably waiting for you.” Harry nodded, and picked up his things again. In a moment, after saying good bye, Harry gathered his friends around the goblet, winked at Dudley, and counted to three.

Collectively they stumbled and fell onto the floor in McGonagall’s office. She was sitting at her desk, obviously talking with Dumbledore. It was he who spoke first.

“Well done, Harry. Well done all of you. Professor McGonagall has told me of your latest exploits.” Everyone grinned.

“In the future, Mr. Potter, I hope you will at least have the courtesy to let me know when you are sneaking into Hogwarts to steal some students for a rescue mission.” Harry started to respond, and then noticed the smile on her face. He changed his expression to downcast…while still grinning.

“Yes, Professor. I’m very sorry. It won’t happen again. Since I’m no longer enrolled here, I hope you won’t take any points from my house.” She tried hard to look stern, but it didn’t work.”

“I have awarded 50 points to Gryffindor…for each of you.” She paused, and then added more. “For you too, Potter. You’re still a member of the house.” Everyone smiled, and for a moment Harry wished he was back at school, worrying about such things as house cup points. McGonagall pointed to Neville, Ron, and Hermione. “I think you all have other things you need to be doing. Miss Weasley, will you stay for a moment.” Harry hugged them all, thanking them yet again, and they departed, leaving Harry and Ginny facing the Headmistress.

“Miss Weasley, it is Friday night. Have you kept your homework current?”

_Huh?_ Ginny thought for a moment and then nodded. “Yes, Professor. I have everything done except a parchment for Charms…and it isn’t due until Wednesday.”

Minerva looked at Harry, her eyes twinkling. “I think this would normally be a Hogsmeade weekend. But, of course, we don’t have those this year. Miss Weasley, I expect you to return to school in time for bed check on Sunday night.” Ginny just stared, not quite certain what she meant. Harry, however, picked up on things a little quicker, dragging her to the fireplace.

“You want to go to ‘Voldemort’s Dungeon.’”

“I do?” she said, now utterly confused.

“Yes, you do!”

She shook her head. “I don’t think I want to go there.”

“Well, that’s where I’m going,” he said as he hopped into the fireplace and spoke the words, disappearing into the flames.

At home, Harry stood at the fireplace, waiting for her. When she appeared, he reached in and pulled her into his arms. “I think we should make this a memorable Hogsmeade weekend. What do you think?” Before she could answer, Harry pulled her lips to his…and slid his hands around her arse. She quickly responded.


	21. Love in the Wolf

Chapter 21 – Love in the Wolf’s Den

It was Halloween, a night with significance for many.

At Grimmauld Place, Harry sat alone in the war room, taking a moment to complete an inventory. There were now more red circles in place…more Death Eaters who were in custody or otherwise accounted for. Three of the Horcruxes were now definitely gone. He had made good progress, but there was still much to do. The walls now had additional decorations….things he had scribbled, ideas he wanted to explore, and doodles of thoughts he’d had. There were also new pictures…pictures that helped keep him going.

There, high up on the wall, were Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. They were always smiling or laughing. Harry had regularly threatened Ron and Hermione if they didn’t stay in their own frames, and Ginny would sometimes flash him when he wasn’t expecting it. He would rather be with them this evening, but at least he could look at them when he wanted to…and he would talk again with Ginny later. There were other pictures too. Pictures of the Weasleys, of his fellow Gryffindors, of some of his teachers, and of Dumbledore. When he sometimes doubted himself, or found the going rough, he would find his inspiration here. In the middle of the collage there were several pictures of his parents, including the one from Petunia. His mother looked so happy…big and fat and pregnant…and dancing with all her friends.

On the table was a sheet of questions he had written earlier, still trying to understand what happened to Voldemort that night. He wasn’t sure of anything, but he was beginning to think he knew more than anyone else. He concluded it was probably time to talk with Dumbledore again…but he had one more thing to try first. Earlier that afternoon, he sent a note to Lighthorse. He didn’t know where it might lead, but it was worth a try.

Finally Harry took a break. Linking his hands behind his head and leaning back in the chair he looked up. His eyes fell upon something on the top shelf of the bookcase. Hermione had brought a muggle CD player with her once, and it was still here. For whatever reason, they had never used it before, so it just sat on the shelf. On a whim, Harry decided to get it down and see what she brought for music. Without looking at the disk inside, he pushed play and then sat aback, his eyes drifting to the picture of Ginny.

It began with a rather lush orchestra…and then the singing started, a soft gentle voice…singing words that just connected with Harry. Especially this night.

 

_I peer through windows,_  
Watch life go by,  
Dream of tomorrow,  
And wonder "why"? 

_The past is holding me,_  
Keeping life at bay,  
I wander lost in yesterday,  
Wanting to fly -  
But scared to try. 

_But if someone like you_  
Found someone like me,  
Then suddenly   
Nothing would ever be the same! 

_My heart would take wing,_  
And I'd feel so alive -  
If someone like you   
Found me! 

_So many secrets_  
I've longed to share!  
All I have needed  
Is someone there, 

 

The song continued, but Harry’s thoughts were elsewhere, thinking about the references to his own life. It was Lucy, a girl from **_Jekyll and Hyde_** , but it might as well be Harry singing to Ginny. His thoughts carried him miles away…to Hogwarts and the girl he loved.

 

At Hogwarts, it was pretty much school as usual. Hermione was meeting with Remus, trying to determine where her project was leading.

“Does distance matter, Professor? Does the intended target need to be nearby? Is there an effective range for these spells?”

“I don’t know, Hermione. I have no experience with this branch of magic at all. However, if what you have determined thus far is correct, it would seem unimportant. I’m not sure there is an easy way to find out. It seems as if you would need a target some distance away, and an observer with the ability to report what happens.” Hermione considered his response and just nodded. Maybe…she should just try some things without an observer. It couldn’t hurt.

“Thank you, Professor.” She glanced at her watch. “We both need to get to dinner.” Remus smiled, and they left his office together, heading for the Great Hall, dinner, and other things.

“Hermione, I’ve wanted to tell you. From what I’ve heard in my classes, the students are very impressed with your teaching.” Hermione blushed as they walked on. “They are very happy in your classes, and they constantly comment about how much they are learning. I want you to know all of us are very proud of you.” She nodded, too embarrassed to respond. It was high praise, and she felt very warm inside, thinking her hard work was paying off.

“Thank you, Professor,” she said, not knowing how to say what she wanted. In one respect, Remus was her co-worker, in another her teacher, and in yet another a good friend. She tried hard to separate those identities, but sometimes….

As she sat at dinner, she continued to think about her project, periodically ignoring the conversation around her. _Maybe I could do something where Harry could observe for me._ She left the thought there because she was back to the same old question. _Who can I use as a target? I don’t want to hurt someone needlessly._

She and Ron had big plans, since this was the anniversary of the beginning of their friendship, forged in the restroom with the troll 6 years earlier. After dinner, Ron and Hermione immediately headed for their common room, avoiding the holiday entertainment planned for the younger students. Once there, she surprised him with a cake that Dobby and Winky had created in the shape of a troll. As he ate, she nudged him, putting icing on his nose and cheek. “Oh honey,” she said with mock seriousness. “Let me clean that off,” she added coquettishly and started licking his nose. Wisely, Ron just allowed her to proceed, knowing that the fun was just beginning.

Remus walked back to his quarters slowly. It was “that” night, something he never looked forward to. While the convergence of a full moon on Halloween might have special meanings for others, for Remus it was just another full moon…a night to be endured rather than celebrated. Normally, on these nights, he would leave Tonks alone and hide out in an unused storeroom down near the dungeons, taking his potion and sleeping off the effects. Tonight, however, he found things a little different when he got back to his apartment at the base of the South Tower.

“You’re not leaving tonight,” Tonks stated, clearly taking charge.

“I have to. You know that. What happens if…”

“What happens is…I deal with it. That’s what happens! We’ve been through this enough.” She softened her voice a bit and snuggled up to him. “Remus, I’ve made your potion. Sluggy is helping me learn how. And we added the peppermint you like.”

“What happens if…if I get out of control?”

“Easy. You can’t get into the school, because that door’s sealed. The outside door opens and you have easy access to the forest. The Invasion Charm will prevent you from re-entering the school from the outside until morning. So…worst case? You spend the night outside, and I come looking for you in the morning.” She spoke as if this was the most natural thing in the world. He tried to smile, but his concerns weren’t gone.

“I know what you want…but I have no idea whether it will work…whether I can still…function while I’m transformed.”

She grinned a little. “Neither do I, but I want to find out. And it doesn’t matter if…well, if you can’t.” Remus was starting to give way, and Tonks wasn’t going to back down. She pushed him gently to the bed, and began removing his shoes. “Why don’t you get more comfortable,” she suggested, and handed him a smoking goblet of Wolfsbane Potion. “I’ve got a little surprise for you.” Remus drank the potion and grimaced as he set the goblet aside. Nymphadora knelt down in front of him and began unbuttoning his shirt, running her hands over his chest as she did so. Then she stood back, took a deep breath, and began to execute her plan.

She was facing Remus who was now sitting on the side of the bed. Over his shoulder, through the window, she could see the moon beginning to rise above the distant skyline…the first sliver of the bright, full round orb that spelled danger. She swung her wand and several of the candles in the room extinguished themselves. In the semi-darkness, the stark white light from the moon began to be noticeable, and Tonks wiggled sideways, trying to place herself in the beam. Then she turned and smiled at Remus.

In a display which many would have thought impossible for the ever-clumsy Tonks, she began to dance and sway. Slowly, she started to unbutton her clothing, taking her time and drawing out every motion. She would hide a little and then return his grin as she teased him with her actions. Then she squeezed her face and her pink hair changed to a long dark mottled brown/grey, mimicking the wolf she loved. She shook her head, shaking out the longer hair and howled a funny little wolf cry. Remus began to laugh, but it was evident he was reacting in other ways too, and she noticed.

“Let’s see what we have here,” she whispered as she came closer and knelt before him, slowly opening the buckle of his belt and releasing the waistband of his trousers. The buttons of his fly were a little more challenging, given that there was some pressure behind them…but she continued, pausing to look up into his eyes from time to time. As she studied his appearance, she noticed that he was starting to transform, his eyes changing colour and his cheeks starting to bulge slightly. She responded in kind.

With another facial contraction, she changed her nose into a rather elongated snout, not really wolf-like but certainly not human. Remus grinned again as she looked up at him, revealing the change. She reached up and began to push his shirt, now freed from his trousers, aside. Remus shifted and the collar slid off his shoulders, falling until the sleeves were bunched at his wrists. Nymphadora slide her hands up his chest that was slowly starting to display more and more hair.

“Ah, my little Wolfie has come to play,” she breathed and moved her mouth to his. She knew she had a limited time left to enjoy his more human characteristics, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find herself trying to kiss a fully transformed werewolf. With open lips, she met his and they rolled together onto the bed. As she pillaged his face and mouth, her hands could feel his musculature changing…the smooth gentle curves becoming more angular and tight. His arms and chest began to bulge as his shoulders hunched.

Quickly, she removed her remaining clothes, and then his boxers joined the pile on the floor. Remus had discovered the joys of having a metamorphmagus as a lover, for she seldom came to him the same way twice. Tonight she displayed a large firm pair of breasts that he attempted to devour while his mouth was still non-lethal. She offered them to him, and he responded with lips and tongue, teasing and tasting every inch. In return, she took his erection in hand and began stroking and rubbing, stoking the fires within to volcanic temperatures.

With his ability to speak rapidly leaving, Remus whispered “I love you, Nymphie,” with his failing articulation, and then gasped as the transformation began to really take hold. Tonks had thought about what he was like transformed, even though she’d never seen him that way…and she was right. She slowly lowered her face to his erection and took him inside her mouth. While the response was immediate, it was not to be for long, for as his form continued to convert, he became far too large for any normal mouth. She moved to simply holding and licking him, carefully avoiding his feet as they morphed into paws. Then she moved to another part of her plan.

Sliding her hands back up his now-furry chest, combing every strand along the way with her fingers, she slowly brought her face nearer to his, carefully watching for any behavior that looked dangerous. He seemed content to simply finish the transformation, so she kept going, slowly bringing his face to her thighs. He responded as she hoped he would…extending a long pinkish tongue into her, providing a level of excitement that Tonks knew other women could only dream of. He continued to lick and slather her opening, apparently finding her taste to his liking. She knew it couldn’t last, and her explosion severely tested the silencing charms she had cast. Again and again she screamed as he kept at her, providing no relief to the assault.

Finally, when she could take no more, she moved away, sliding back down to a more normal position, and hoping that she could accommodate his engorgement. As she started to take him inside, she hoped he wouldn’t pick this moment to grow violent. For whatever reason, he didn’t, and she gradually stretched her muscles and eased herself over him. As she pushed herself up a bit, he started to growl…quietly at first, almost a purring…then louder and louder, until his howling shriek split the air. Tonks was about to cover her ears when she realized that his plaintive moans and howls were a sign of his coming orgasm. His thrusting had grown more and more frantic, a speed race that seemed to have no finish line.

Then he thrust his head back, facing the moon directly through the window and starting a long, loud howl that seemed to speak volumes. Tonks could feel the waves of hot liquid released within her…blast after blast of magma, scorching her vaginal walls. It seemed like it would never end, and she found herself climaxing yet again as her lover crashed again and again against her walls. Unbidden, her voice joined his.

Finally, he was spent…as was she. She retreated slowly, again watching his reactions for any sign of danger. He seemed content to simply lie on the bed, and she moved behind him, spooning against his back and holding her sweaty body against his coarse fur. From time to time she would shift and rub a bit, feeling the wonderful sensations of his fur against her nipples. Quietly she smiled. It had worked. _Merlin, did it ever work!_


	22. Stoking the Fire, Feeding the Flames

Chapter 22 – Stoking the Fire, Feeding the Flames

The November issue of The Quibbler disappeared as fast as it appeared. It seemed everyone was waiting for more information about Tom Riddle and his descent into evil, and the story didn’t disappoint. Luna was showing the paper around the school and proudly told Ginny that her father had already re-printed twice…on the first day! She was clearly excited that it was her father’s publication telling the story, and shared a free copy with Hermione and Ron at breakfast.

This time the cover had a picture of Tom Riddle as an eleven-year-old, dressed in the grey, drab clothes of the orphanage.

**Was It Just a Troubled Childhood?**

This time the story was a little longer, and included more details…details that were certain to upset Lord Voldemort

**The Dark Lord – Just a Troubled Child?**

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, whose real name is Tom Riddle, was raised in a muggle orphanage and early on discovered his magical background writes Rita Skeeter. Though Tom didn’t know what made him special, he quickly found uses for his unknown talent, abusing other children and creating problems at his orphanage. The other children learned to avoid him and his anti-social behavior.

One boy found that crossing Tom Riddle had consequences when his pet rabbit was discovered hung from the rafters. In another instance, a boy and girl reported something happened when Tom took them into a cave during a trip to the coast. Exactly what happened is unclear, but Riddle was quick to deny everything.

As a child, he discovered his gift of Parseltongue…the ability to talk to snakes. According to several Ministry officials, Parseltongue is often a sign of dark wizardry, and of course was a known skill of his famous ancestor, Salazar Slytherin.

As a condition of his admission to Hogwarts, Riddle was required to return a number of items that he had stolen from other children at the orphanage. While these were small and inconsequential items, it was clearly a sign of things to come.

Once he arrived at Hogwarts, his behavior scarcely improved. It is true that he was named a Prefect in his fifth year, and became Head Boy in his Seventh Year, but his Good Boy act was merely a façade. It is now known that he opened the so-called Chamber of Secrets while at school, and was directly responsible for the death of a fellow student, Myrtle Spencer. 

When he suspected that school officials were aware of his activities, he framed another for the crime, resulting in the expulsion of an innocent student. This act, skillfully carried out, earned him a Special Award for Service to the School. Already his skills at misinformation and lying were refined.

While still at Hogwarts, he decided to change his name, feeling that Tom Riddle wasn’t good enough and using his new name to mask the truth of his half-blood background. He also started to gather his followers…the core of the group first known as Knights of Walpurgis and later as Death Eaters.

Next: Tom Riddle gathers his followers. 

 

At Hogwarts, the article generated a great deal of interest amongst the older students and faculty, and many copies were seen on the teacher’s desks and in the common rooms. There was also interest elsewhere in the country.

 

“Severus, where is she getting this information?” Snape thought about his answer, carefully weighing his words as always.

“My Lord, I would suspect that Dumbledore might be behind this. Perhaps he and Potter discussed some of these things last year. And, as you know, Potter has provided information to this Skeeter woman before.” Voldemort nodded, knowing that only Dumbledore would have known about some of what was included in the article. The Dark Lord was not happy with these revelations, even though he denied his concern. He abruptly changed the subject.

“Draco, where is Potter?” Malfoy tried hard to come up with something positive to report, but the simple facts were that no one knew, and Draco had found out nothing.

“We have looked everywhere, but no one has seen him. I explored talking with someone from the school while they were in Hogsmeade, but the school is not allowing those trips this year. No one in the village has seen him.” He wanted to sound like he’d done a lot, but in fact he’d done very little, because there weren’t many avenues open to explore.

“So, you think he’s hiding somewhere?” It wasn’t much of a question, and the answer was obvious to everyone in the room.

“Yes, my Lord. It appears that he is in hiding, and apparently he has invoked a secret keeper.” Draco was guessing, but it made it sound like he had discovered something. And he thought it was better if he was thwarted by magic and not his own lack of skills.

“Well, then we simply need to find someone who knows the secret. Who would that be, Draco?”

“I’m not certain, but I suspect that Weasley and that mudblood Granger would both know. I think one of them would be his secret keeper. At school, they were never apart for a moment.”

“Severus, do you agree?”

“My Lord, Draco is most likely correct,” Snape added quickly, coming to Draco’s defense, but also revealing nothing of importance. “The three of them were never apart. However, since Potter is no longer at school, things may have changed. In my opinion, if he used one of them, it would be Granger. She is smarter and tougher than Weasley.” Voldemort turned, smiling at Snape.

“Can we penetrate their minds?” Snape nodded, perhaps a little too quickly.

“We could, my Lord. Neither of them are skilled Occlumens. Weasley is probably weaker and therefore more vulnerable.” Snape paused, recognizing he had trapped himself. However, it was too late, and Voldemort pounced.

“Very well. Severus, you will pursue both of them. I want to know where Potter is hiding. It is time to deal with **The Chosen One**.” He spoke the last words with derision dripping from every syllable and then suddenly went off in a different direction.

“Severus,” he said, speaking as if something had just occurred to him. “Would Sybill Trelawney have a memory of the prophecy?” Snape was caught off guard, and nearly spoke before he could close his thoughts to the Dark Lord.

“I have no doubt she would have a memory of the evening, but I’m not certain she would remember the prophecy itself. It is unclear whether a true seer actually has knowledge of their thoughts when they are possessed.” Snape was dancing here…he had no idea if Sybill knew what she had said that night, since it wasn’t really her speaking.

“I think you should explore that also. If she leaves the school, we could consider encouraging her to come have a talk with us.” While the comment sounded very simple, Snape knew he was speaking of kidnap, torture, and eventually murder. Snape merely nodded.

“I will explore that option.”

As the Dark Lord left the room, Snape quickly concluded that the magazine was upsetting him more than he wished to admit. He turned to Draco.

“You can not continue to accomplish nothing without the Dark Lord becoming irritated, Draco. You need to find Potter.”

“If you’re so smart, you find him!” Draco shot back, still smarting from his rebuke.

“Draco, I am merely suggesting that the Dark Lord does not tolerate repeated failure. I have said nothing about your failure to kill Dumbledore, but others have spoken of it. Your master is probably overlooking your shortcomings because Dumbledore is dead, but that diversion will not last forever. Sooner or later, he will call you to account.”

Snape sounded like a father guiding a petulant child, but Draco was in no mood for his opinion. Instead, he turned and walked off, seeking the privacy of his own room. Once there, he fell upon the bed, burying his head as he cried, bemoaning the loss of both his parents. Snape, on the other hand, began considering a trip to Hogsmeade, and perhaps a visit to the Hog’s Head.


	23. The Grim Arrives

Chapter 23 – The Grim Arrives

November brought the arrival of snow at Hogwarts, and this winter seemed to promise even more cold weather than usual. Before the middle of the month, there were large drifts forming against the castle walls, and Hagrid’s classes were regularly moved indoors as the animals of the forest retreated deep within the trees for protection. With no Hogsmeade trips, the students began to exhibit symptoms of being cooped up too much, wishing they could get outside for something more than an occasional snowball fight.

Inside the castle, tempers began to flare, and petty differences seemed to result in errant magic bordering on personal attacks. Susan Bones tried to break up a fight between Merribelle Aspic and Jennifer Aquinas, two Ravenclaw second years that apparently both claimed the same boyfriend. As a result, she ended up spending a few days in the medical wing, recovering from a rather significant body deformity. It didn’t help that the Daily Prophet reported events clearly tied to the Dark Lord on a regular basis. Two students had gone home when family members were attacked or reported missing or killed.

One evening towards the middle of the month, Ron and Hermione were in their common room studying when there was a loud pop and Dobby appeared, out of breath and clearly upset.

“Miss Hermione, Dobby needs you to come right away please.” Hermione set her quill down and looked at him, immediately sensing the urgency in his request.

“What is it, Dobby?”

“Please, Miss Hermione,” he pleaded. “Dobby can not say.” Hermione looked at Ron and picked up her wand. She looked back at Dobby, and then at Ron again. “Mr. Wheezy…you come too,” Dobby quickly added, and Ron jumped up to join them. Dobby led off, heading towards the dungeons, and then towards the door to the kitchens. Inside, Hermione and Ron found the elves clearly upset. Dobby looked around, obviously searching for something that wasn’t here. After some chirping conversation with some other elves, he headed out again, with Ron and Hermione close behind.

They reached the corridor outside the Room of Requirement, finding a door standing open, and noise coming from inside. The room was small, and poorly lit, but they could discern at least two other elves, one apparently trying to help the other. As they advanced, Hermione could see Kreacher, lying on a bed of sorts. Not moving, with his eyes closed. The other elf moved aside as they approached, and Dobby pulled Hermione to the side of the bed.

“Dobby thinks is he dying, Miss Hermione. He fell down on the floor in the kitchens.” Hermione reached out to touch Kreacher’s hand, immediately feeling the cold of his flesh. He looked far more emaciated than before, and he was not breathing. After a moment, she turned to Ron, tears welling in her eyes.

“Ron, can you get Madam Pomfrey. I’m afraid there is nothing we can do, but….” She broke off speaking as she was overcome by her sorrow. There were more elves gathered outside the door, and they were crying openly when Ron turned, running down the hall towards the medical wing. Only moments later, although it seemed like hours, he returned with Madam Pomfrey in tow. Everyone moved back as she came into the room. She took only moments.

“I’m sorry, Miss Granger. I’m afraid he is gone.” Hermione tried hard to maintain her decorum, but she was saddened by his death. Yes, he was old. She knew that. Yes, he was often offensive and certainly held different opinions than her own. But his mindset was also the result of the treatment he had received and the loneliness he knew after living on his own for year, with only a screaming portrait for company. But, down deep, he was a living creature who deserved better. And now he was dead.

Eventually, Hermione pulled herself together and got up, taking Dobby’s hand and leading the elves back to the kitchens with Ron following behind. When they walked in, all the Hogwarts elves were there, trying to work, but really just going through the motions, distracted by their fears. They gathered around her when she stopped.

“I’m sorry,” she began, trying to hold her personal feelings in check. “Kreacher was very old, and he had a very hard life. I know you all tried to make him feel at home here…and I think his last years were better because of all of you.” The elves began to sob, some breaking down completely. “We will…I…well, we’ll have some sort of…service for him, if you would like that.” She had never even heard of an elf dying before, although they obviously did, and she didn’t know if they had funerals or whatever. She was about to speak again when McGonagall came through the door.

“Thank you, Miss Granger,” she said. At first Hermione thought she was simply dismissing the whole thing, but then she continued. “After lunch tomorrow, we will have a service in the cemetery, and you are all welcome to attend.” What she didn’t mention was that though there had been elf deaths at Hogwarts for hundreds of years, there had never been a service held. However, it seemed to her like this was the appropriate time to have one, and perhaps begin a new tradition in the process. Hermione hugged Dobby, who was profusely thanking her between bouts of tears. Ron and McGonagall were similarly surrounded by other elves, who seemed to feel that a hug from a human would help them deal with the death.

Ron and Hermione visited McGonagall’s office on their way back to their rooms and Hermione used the fireplace to speak briefly with Harry, telling him the news and asking if he could come to the school tomorrow. He immediately agreed, but his thoughts were conflicted. On one hand, he and Kreacher could not have been more different, sharing absolutely nothing in life. On the other hand, he had grown more aware of the impact a death brings to everyone, friend and foe alike. Somehow the visit to his parent’s graves had awakened something within him: maturity he’d never felt before.

“Headmistress,” Hermione said as she pulled her head back out of the fire. McGonagall looked up from her desk. “I wonder if…well, I would like to do something.” Hermione laid out her idea, and McGonagall considered it for a long time before responding.

“I’m…I’m not…well, that’s never been done before, but…I think…. “ She stopped and pursed her lips, considering the suggestion for another minute and sneaking a peak at Dumbledore’s portrait. He was watching carefully, and she felt the weight of his unspoken opinion upon her shoulders. “Miss Granger, I think that is a fine idea.” Hermione smiled and walked back to her room, thinking a little about tomorrow.

At breakfast the following morning McGonagall rose to speak to the entire student body. “Last night, one of the Hogwarts house elves passed away of natural causes. He was rather old, and his death was not unexpected.” The students grew immediately quiet, many not even realizing there were house elves at the school. “Classes this afternoon have been cancelled, and we will hold a service outside in the cemetery. I ask that all of you attend.” As she resumed her seat, the entire room filled with conversation as students digested what she had said.

Harry arrived at the school about noon, hiding under his cloak as he walked to the common room of the Head Boy and Head Girl. After a little small talk with Ron, he sat down with Hermione and they discussed what he might want to say. He wasn’t sure he had the words he wanted, and Hermione helped him sketch out his speech, polishing his ideas and adding a few of her own. When it was done, they both felt like it represented what they wanted to say….and what should be said.

At two o’clock, the students gathered in the entry hall. The Prefects had decided upon their own to make this a somewhat formal affair, and every student was wearing a complete uniform, topped with the simple pointed black hat, their necks wrapped with the appropriate house scarf. Hagrid arrived at the doors, and they began a silent procession, walking on pathways cleared of snow around the North Tower and past the greenhouses to a spot most of them had never visited.

It wasn’t a secret that the school had a cemetery, but most students simply never had a reason to go there. It was a small plot, surrounded by a low simple fence that was just tall enough to show short little pickets above the accumulated snow. The students gathered on the hillside overlooking the area. Inside the fence, right in front of where they stood, was an area set aside for elves, and the number of stones there surprised everyone. A quick count suggested several hundred elves had lived and died at Hogwarts over the years. When everyone was assembled, another procession came into view and the students grew silent.

In the front was the Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall. Following her were the Head Boy and Head Girl, and immediately behind them were Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, holding hands as they walked slowly across the frozen grass. There were murmurs from the students as they recognized Harry, wondering why he was here. Then came the elves, hundreds of them, with six in front carrying a small, simple wooden coffin. The elves were all wrapped in colorful blankets, trying to keep warm in the winter chill.

When the procession arrived, the coffin was placed at the foot of a freshly-dug hole and the elves took their place next to the students, apart yet somehow together. Off to one side stood the entire staff of Hogwarts, the teachers, the aurors, and the other support staff. McGonagall spoke first.

“We have come here today to remember one of our friends…a house elf named Kreacher. Most of you did not know him, and I know that many of you did not realize until this morning that there were house elves at Hogwarts. That is understandable, since it is considered the mark of a good elf that they are nearly invisible. I have asked the owner of this elf to join us today and say a few words.” With that, she stopped, and Harry moved forward, still holding Ginny’s hand. He was still struggling a bit with the words. They sounded so mature and not really like Harry, but even though he’d had help with them and they were written out in advance, he knew he was speaking what was in his heart.

“I am here today to tell you about Kreacher. But for you to really understand Kreacher, I need to tell you some other things first.” He stopped, and glanced at Dobby, gathering the courage he needed to speak about such things. Then he took a deep breath, squeezed Ginny’s hand, and began.

“House elves are magical creatures. They have a wonderful sense of duty and responsibility and their loyalty is without equal. For hundreds of years we have enslaved them, considering them as property and not as individuals. They are ours to use and abuse as we see fit.”

“When I first met Kreacher, he belonged to my Godfather, Sirius Black. Kreacher had served the Black family for many years, just as his ancestors did. He performed well, doing whatever tasks he was given, and keeping the secrets of the family. Along the way, he learned and adopted many of the values of that family, including a strong distrust for anyone who was not a pure-blood wizard. He disliked my Godfather because they did not agree about that. But he continued to serve.”

“When my Godfather died, Kreacher was willed to me. I didn’t want him, partly because we disagreed about things like the Dark Lord, and partly because I don’t believe that ownership of a slave is necessarily a good thing. Since I had no place for him to work, and since I knew he and I would struggle to get along, Professor Dumbledore suggested I have him come to work here, with other elves. I hoped he might be happier here. I honestly don’t know if that worked.”

“There has never been a service here before for an elf. But as you can see when you look around, many have lived here and stayed when they passed on. I think it is time that we re-consider the way we treat other magical creatures. These elves,” he said as he gestured to the gathering, “provide Hogwarts with the meals you eat, the clean and warm spaces in which you live and learn, and almost every other comfort here at the school. Even though they are enslaved, they do that willingly and without malice. If you were to go to the kitchens, they would willingly prepare anything you desire.” He turned to look at McGonagall, and then grinned for a moment. “However, I don’t think the Headmistress would think that would be a good idea.” Many of the older students laughed, and even some of the elves giggled a bit. McGonagall smiled.

“They make your beds, tend your fires, and clean your rooms…and they ask for nothing in return.” He paused, then turned to glance at the coffin. “Today, we honor Kreacher. But the best honor we can give him is to remember every house elf, and the work they do on our behalf.” He stopped, not sure what to say…and knowing that what he felt like doing probably wasn’t appropriate. Nevertheless, he did it. He turned to look at the elves…and started clapping. For a moment, everyone stared. Then Hermione and Ron and Ginny joined him. The whole staff joined in…and then finally the students. The elves were lost, not knowing what to think. Wizards did not do this! Ever! Tears began to flow in every eye.

“It is time we said goodbye. To Kreacher, we hope that you have gone to a better place. And to all the elves, we hope Hogwarts is now a better place.” He stopped, and Hagrid slowly lifted the coffin into the hole, gently lowering it with a rope sling into the soil of Hogwarts. Harry pulled a red feather from his robe and held it over the hole. “May flights of phoenixes carry your soul to its rest.” He dropped the feather, which slowly fell, drifting on the air currents until it reached the coffin. There was a brief explosion of flames, and the feather was gone. Then Harry turned back and took Ginny’s hand again. With a nod to everyone, they began to return to the castle, students and elves together, holding hands as they walked.

Just as they reached the castle, Pansy came over to Harry. “Could I talk to you for a minute, Harry?” He was surprised, but quite willing to talk. One of the things he missed most living alone was not being around people, even people who weren’t his close friends. He walked into the Great Hall, and away from the students milling around the entry hall.

“What did you need, Pansy?”

“I wondered…if…if you’ve seen Draco.” Harry was surprised. If he had seen Draco, it would have made the news, since he would have done everything he could to arrest him. But, Pansy might not realize that.

“No, I haven’t Pansy. I don’t know where he is right now.” She looked disappointed, maybe even hurt.

“If you see him, could you give him a message for me?” Initially, Harry found this idea very amusing. After all, Harry and Draco had never been on very good terms, and certainly they weren’t now. However, if Pansy had no other way to reach him, she might assume Harry could, or at least that Harry was more likely to run into him.

“Sure, Pansy. I can try.” He didn’t want to lead her on, but if he did see Draco…well. “What did you want to tell him?” Her face started to contort a little, speaking volumes when she screwed up her courage to speak.

“Harry, I really miss him. I know he doesn’t like you, and I guess you probably don’t like him either, but I really miss him, and I want him to know that.” She sounded utterly sincere, and Harry actually felt sorry for her. She might love the wrong man, but it didn’t mean she didn’t have real feelings. Suddenly, Harry had an idea. It hadn’t been part of his overall plan, but it certainly fit well with what he wanted to do.

“Pansy, I’m going to be here for a few more minutes, and then I have to go. Why don’t you write Draco a note? Just tell him what you want him to know. When you’re done, bring it to the Headmistress’s office, and I’ll try and get it to him.” Pansy smiled a little, and then nodded as she began to consider what she wanted to write.

A short time later, Pansy knocked on the door to McGonagall’s office, and Harry came out to meet her, away from the eyes of the others in the room.

“Here, Harry,” she said, thrusting the sealed parchment into his hands. He smiled.

“I’ll do everything I can to get this to him, Pansy. I’m going to try and find him real soon.” That was enough, he figured. She didn’t need the details, and to tell the truth, Harry didn’t know what the details were yet. He’d seen Draco falter when Dumbledore challenged him to complete his task. Draco wasn’t near as tough as he thought he was, and that gave Harry some options when he caught up with him. Harry smiled and gave Pansy a little hug before she left. He’d do what he could and maybe a note from Pansy would help.


	24. New Proposals

Chapter 24 – New Proposals

When Harry returned home, he decided it was time. He’d been considering these things for some time, and still felt it was worth trying them. If they worked, they might confirm some of the things he only suspected. As he sat down to write, Harry carefully selected his words, hoping they would be enough to convince Lighthorse. He didn’t know the man well, but so far he’d done everything Harry could possibly expect.

Hedwig was out hunting, so he turned to Fawkes, and asked him to deliver the letter. It wasn’t far from Grimmauld Place to the Ministry, and Harry hoped for a quick response. He started to work on some other things when Fawkes returned, having left only a few minutes before. Lighthorse agreed to meet immediately, and Harry dressed quickly and headed for the café. Sitting in the booth once again, he explained what he wanted to do.

“I want to talk with Lucius Malfoy,” Harry started out, immediately laying out the first of his requests. Lighthorse just looked at him, and then responded.

“What do you expect to find out?”

“I think he could confirm some things that would help me prepare for the confrontation with Voldemort. I would like to offer him a deal in return for his information.”

“What sort of deal are you thinking of?” Lighthorse was skeptical, but willing to listen before making any decision.

“He takes Veritaserum, and answers my questions. I won’t ask him about his family or anything personal. The only thing I want to discuss is when Voldemort came to power the first time. If he agrees, you and I promise that we will try to capture Draco alive and I will testify on his behalf in any trial, and that his wife will not be harmed while she is in custody. When it’s all over, the Wizengamot will reconsider his case.”

“What do you expect to find out?”

Harry sat for a minute, deciding how to answer that. It wasn’t that he hadn’t considered sharing his knowledge with Lighthorse at some point, it was just a question of whether now was the time. Is it time to tell him what I know? _Can I trust him with the information? What happens if he tells somebody? Who might he tell? Unless he told Voldemort or some spy, I don’t think it would matter much…nobody else knows how many there are, or what they are_. Lighthorse sat quietly, allowing Harry the time to consider his answer.

Finally, Harry leaned across the table, speaking a little more quietly. “The reason I haven’t gone after Voldemort directly is that he split his soul years ago, and I need to collect the other pieces before I collect him, otherwise he can simply come back and I’ll have to do it all over again.” Lighthorse looked stunned. Of the many things he thought Harry might say, this was not on the list.

“How do you know this, Harry?”

“I’m sorry, but I really can’t tell you that. I just…well…I’m not in a position to say much more, but now you can see why it’s important.” Lighthorse nodded emphatically. He did indeed immediately grasp the importance of what Harry had just revealed.

“And you think Lucius knows about this?”

“I’m not sure. He may know some of it and not realize how important his knowledge actually is. At one time, he had a piece of Voldemort’s soul in his possession and didn’t know what it was, so it’s possible that Voldemort never really explained what he had done. But Lucius might be able to confirm other things I suspect, even if he doesn’t understand the significance.” Lighthorse sat back, taking a minute to understand what Harry had just told him. This new information changed everything. It was useless to kill Voldemort if he would simply regenerate anew. It would be like fighting Medusa…an exercise in futility.

“Harry, you said in your letter you wanted to talk about several things. What else do you want to discuss?” Lighthorse hadn’t decided about Lucius yet, but he wanted to consider Harry’s disclosure for a moment before committing to a course of action.

“I really appreciate what you procured for me before, even though I haven’t had a need to use it yet,” Harry began, acknowledging that Lighthorse had allowed him something otherwise forbidden. Now he was going to ask for even more. “Dumbledore told me that within the Department of Mysteries is a room…well someplace I guess…where they study Love.” Lighthorse slowly nodded. He didn’t know much about it personally, but he did know it existed.

“I would like to be granted access to it…to see what’s there, and how they study it. I want to find out what is actually known about it.”

“May I ask why, Harry?”

_What do I tell him? Why do I want to see it? Will it really help me, or am I trying to prove Dumbledore was wrong? What happens if I find he was right? What happens if I find out he was wrong?_ “I can only tell you part of it, because my life depends on it.”

Harry took a deep breath and started to share parts of his innermost secret. “As you’ve heard, there was a prophecy made about me and Voldemort. There are a lot of details that aren’t important, but one of the important elements is that Love will help me defeat him. That may sound really stupid, but Dumbledore and I discussed it many times, and I think he was right. I’m not sure what information is out there, but I need to have every weapon available when we meet, so I figure anything I can learn is a plus.”

Lighthorse found his brain was running on overload. Harry had just revealed two big things…BIG THINGS! He wasn’t certain that either of them meant he should do anything different, but he needed some time to consider his response. Things just changed! REALLY changed! Lighthorse started to speak a couple times, but each time changed his mind and thought more about how to answer Harry’s request. Finally, he decided he just needed more time.

“Harry, these are both really big decisions,” he temporized. “I would like to consider what you’ve told me.” He stopped, and realized he needed to tell Harry a little more. “The deal with Lucius is not a problem, but I do need to clear a visit with Scrimgeour. I don’t need to tell him you are going, just me, so your name will never come up.” Harry nodded, understanding that Lighthorse still had to answer to someone from time to time.

“The access to the Department of Mysteries is a little more difficult, although I don’t think it’s really a problem. It’s just…well…there really isn’t any system in place for outsiders to be admitted. I’m sure, given the importance of things, that I can get you in…but I need to figure out how to do it without raising all kinds of problems for others.” He paused, and then continued. “Do you need to get into the Department of Mysteries right away?” Harry shook his head.

“No, there’s no real rush on that. I would like to see it before the big confrontation, but I’m not planning that anytime soon.” Harry paused for e moment, and then threw out something else. “At some point down the road, I do need to talk with you about confronting Voldemort. I would like to cause that to happen, rather than react to something he does. But that will only work if he doesn’t do something first.” Lighthorse nodded…that made sense.

“Okay, Harry. I will get back to you in the next day or two.” Harry nodded again. He hadn’t expected an immediate answer, unless it was NO, so waiting a day or two wasn’t terribly important. As he got up to leave, Lighthorse spoke again.

“I’m going to be curious to see what happens when the next issue of The Quibbler come out, Harry. I think the Dark Lord might start getting a little upset with you.” Harry grinned.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”


	25. A New Advisor

Obviously Harry had never been to Azkaban.  He knew it was on an island somewhere in the north.  What little else he knew came from listening to Hagrid and Sirius speaking about their time spent there while they were imprisoned, and Arthur Weasley when he had visited once.  All of those experiences had come while the dementors were employed as guards, so he knew things would be different now.  Regardless, he assumed it was a dismal, dreary place, and he wasn’t wrong.

 

There was a small boat landing, a weather-worn set of wooden planks and pilings that connected a narrow opening carved into the rocky shore and the churning North Sea.  Everywhere else, there were just jagged vertical cliffs and sea stacks, scarred by fissures and cracks and broken by the relentless surf pounding again and again upon the rocks.  It was at least one hundred feet from the raging ocean to the surface on top, and any boat approaching the place would have been broken apart by the tossing of the surf rebounding from the ancient walls.

 

“Do they actually bring boats here?” Harry asked, as the portkey dropped them onto the narrow footpath next to the quay.

 

“No, that’s strictly for show.  Everything is delivered using portkeys.  You can not apparate on or off of the island, and boats never come here.  The pier is charmed, and anyone who tried would quickly decide the tides won’t allow a landing.”  Lighthorse started off up the pathway and Harry followed, leaning into the wind and working hard to maintain his footing on the loose, wet scree.  Eventually, they reached a set of stone steps that led up between the rocks to a grassy plateau on top.  The stone was just as slippery, and frequently covered with moss and lichen, but after a short but tough climb they reached the top and stopped to catch their breath.  Harry looked around.

 

The view out to sea was impressive, even though there was really nothing to see.  The tossing waves and breakers eventually merged with the leaden sky to form a uniform grey background, broken only by dots of white from the spray and spume.  When he looked inland the view was much different.  A short distance away, a large, two-storey castle structure rose out of the grass, topped with turrets at each corner and a large entry drawbridge.  It looked like a classic medieval castle, missing only the moat, which was already provided by the ocean.  There were few windows, and all of them were small and barred.  As he looked back at the ocean again, he marveled that Sirius had been able to escape from here.  Even as a dog, it would seem foreboding…no, foolhardy.

 

They set off again, quickly covering the distance to the front door.  Actually, Harry discovered, there wasn’t really a front door.  The first door, which amazingly Lighthorse opened with a key just like a muggle, only led into a small sally port and a second door.  Lighthorse stopped and transformed the key into a galleon coin, and they approached the inner door, waiting while a guard determined that they were who they claimed to be.  Once inside, there was yet another door, controlled from the inside by another guard.  Lighthorse turned in the portkey and the galleon, and they were identified yet again before going inside.  It was about at this point that Harry decided the place was dreary enough even without the dementors.

 

They had now arrived inside the prison itself, but there were still many more doors between them and the cells.  Before they could move on, the jailer collected their wands, and searched them for any other materials considered contraband.  There were some questions about the bottle Harry was carrying, but Lighthorse had the necessary documentation to allow them to keep it and they moved on.

 

Finally, they were ushered into a small room with a table, a couple of empty chairs, and Lucius Malfoy.  He looked terrible: his face very thin and gaunt with several days growth of beard, his long, almost-white hair dirty and tangled, and his clothing in tatters.  The sneer was still there, but Harry didn’t think it had much behind it.  He was not his usually arrogant self.

 

“Good afternoon, Lucius,” Lighthorse said as he and Harry sat down.  “We’d like to talk with you about some things.”  His response was surprising, especially since Harry was there.  Harry had assumed he would balk at even the idea of talking, but he seemed hardly chuffed at the idea.  His eyes seemed to show a slight interest but he didn’t speak, apparently waiting to hear more.  “Harry would like to make you an offer.”  Malfoy came to life now, his face showing a little more animation, his attitude returning from before.

 

“And what kind of offer would Potter be making?  Is he working for the Ministry now?”  Harry smiled but waited to respond, wanting Malfoy to calm down a bit.  He didn’t want to appear too eager.  In the silence, Lucius gradually drew back into himself a little, and then Harry began.

 

“Mr. Malfoy, as you know the Ministry plans to keep you here indefinitely.  Most likely, that means a life sentence.”  Malfoy just sneered, as if this wasn’t news and he didn’t care.  Harry continued, knowing there would be a certain amount of posturing before any deal could be made.  “However, I have suggested you might have some information that would be useful, and I told the Ministry it would be worthwhile to reconsider your situation if you were willing to share a bit.”

 

There!  It was out on the table, and Malfoy clearly didn’t think much of it yet, so Harry continued.  “As you may know, your wife is currently in custody, although there are no plans to bring her to trial.  Probably her only real crime is being associated with you and Draco, and that’s not really illegal.  The Ministry is looking for Draco, and if he’s found…if they can capture him alive…he will be charged for the death of Dumbledore.  Assuming he’s found guilty, he would be sentenced to life here also.  Officially, the Ministry doesn’t know that I witnessed the killing of Dumbledore, so I wouldn’t necessarily be called as a witness.”  Harry let that sink in, even though it might not be news either.

 

“So, here’s my proposal.  If you agree to answer some questions, I can promise that your wife will not be charged.  She will be kept in protective custody until such time as things are safe for her to return to your home.  When Draco is captured, he will not be harmed, and since I witnessed the death of Dumbledore, I will testify on his behalf, explaining that the only thing Draco did was admit the Death Eaters to the school, using the vanishing cabinet at Borgin and Burkes.  Dumbledore was killed by Snape and Draco actually refused to kill Dumbledore when he had the chance.”  Harry couldn’t read Malfoy very well, and he wasn’t sure if any of this mattered, but he continued on, trying to get the whole deal on the table before Lucius decided anything.

 

“I will not ask you anything about your own actions, or anything you have done that might have broken the law.  I simply want to know about some things Voldemort might have told you.  I will ask that you take Veritaserum to assist us.  If you do these things, the Ministry will promise to review your case as soon as Voldemort is defeated.”  He stopped.  That was the whole deal, and now it was time for Lucius to respond.  Harry knew the next words would tell the tale: if Lucius asked questions or tried to bargain, he would do it!

 

No one said anything for nearly a minute as they just eyed each other.  Finally, Lucius spoke up.  “Does Potter speak for the Ministry?”  _Yes, he’s going to do it!_   Lighthorse spoke up..

 

“The Ministry is aware of this agreement.   If you participate, then everything Harry has said will happen.”

 

“And what happens if I do this, and the Dark Lord is victorious?  What happens then?”  Harry had planned for this question and immediately responded.

 

“There is no written record of our meeting, and if you check the prison log, we are not here right now.  The only record will be yours and mine, and I assume you are an adequate Occlumens to deal with the Dark Lord should that arise.  If you see him again, I will undoubtedly be dead, so I won’t be able to tell anyone.”  Malfoy nodded slightly, recognizing at least part of this as true.

 

“What about you?” he asked, turning to Lighthorse.

 

“If you agree, I will leave the room.  I don’t need to know what you two discuss.”  Lucius looked back at Harry again, obviously considering the deal.

 

“So, you only want to know about what the Dark Lord has told me?”  Harry nodded.  “What sort of things do you want to know?”  Harry considered how much to say, and then decided how to answer.

 

“Voldemort would have told you about some of his activities back before he killed my parents.  That is all I want to discuss.”  Malfoy remained silent, still considering all of this.  Harry thought he could hear the wheels turning as Lucius looked for holes in the proposal.  They’d tried to keep it simple, and that probably bothered him.  His suspicious mind just knew there had to be a catch somewhere, but he couldn’t find one.

 

“I think you’re going to find killing the Dark Lord a little harder than you can imagine.”  It wasn’t defiant but rather a statement of his opinion, and Harry took it as such.  He smiled.

 

“That’s why I wish to talk with you, Mr. Malfoy.”  It might have been a little too formal, but Harry thought being polite just might tip the scales.  And it did.

 

“If you expect me to help you kill him, you’re wasting your time.”  A small portion of Lucius’ old swagger had returned, but that was okay.  Harry would have suspicious if he weren’t at least a little defiant.

 

“No, I don’t expect that.  I will not inquire about your opinion on the matter.”  Lucius went back to being sullen again, his mind churning and tossing the deal from side to side…looking for holes.

 

“So, I agree to talk, and you let Narcissa go free, and you testify for Draco, and my case get reviewed when it’s all over.  That’s everything?”  Both Harry and Lighthorse nodded.  “And the Ministry agrees to all of this?”  Lighthorse nodded.  Finally, Lucius thought he saw a hole.  “Well, what happens if both of you are killed.  How will the Ministry still honor the deal?  Why would the Ministry still honor the deal?”

 

“Mr. Malfoy, if both of us are killed, Lord Voldemort will have won, and you have a different set of issues to confront.”  Lucius thought about that and finally nodded.

 

“Okay, you have a deal.  But I’m not talking about anything I did, right?”  Harry nodded.

 

“That’s the deal.  We’ll talk about what Voldemort might have told you but I won’t ask about anything you did other than meetings with him and such.”  Harry extended his hand, trying to push very gently.  With obvious reluctance, Lucius shook his hand.  Lighthorse also shook his hand and then left the room.  Harry pulled out a small bottle and poured three drops into the glass of water on the table.  Lucius looked at him, sneered a little, and then drank it down.

 

Harry sat back, let Lucius get comfortable, and then began.

 

“Tell me about the night Voldemort went to kill my parents.”

 

“Early in the evening, he met with several of us…Mulciber, Avery, and Pettigrew were there.  He told us that Pettigrew had provided the information he needed to deal with the Potters, and he was finally going to get rid of that problem.  He said he had something special planned for James.”  Harry felt a twisting inside as he listened to the plotting which resulted in the death of his parents.

 

“Then what happened?”

 

“The Dark Lord said something to Peter about finishing…about completing a special project.  I had no idea what he was talking about, but Pettigrew seemed to understand.  Then he got up and left and I went home shortly after that.”

 

“What happened next?”

 

“About midnight, there were rumors flying all over.  Mulciber said that the Dark Lord hadn’t returned and Peter apparently went to look for him, since he was the only one who knew where the Potters lived.  No one saw Peter until the following morning, and he told Avery that the Dark Lord had been seriously injured.  Pettigrew said that he had gone away to recover, and he might be gone a long time.”

 

“The next morning I tried to find Pettigrew to find out what had happened, but he just disappeared.  Everyone was saying that Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord was dead.  We all tried to find Pettigrew and see what he knew, but he had gone to ground.  Then there was news that Sirius Black had found Peter and killed him, so whatever he knew died with him.  Black was sent to Azkaban and that was the end of everything we knew.”

 

Harry thought about what Lucius had said.  There was nothing really new in any of this, except that only Peter seemed to know what actually might have happened.

 

“So you didn’t know whether Voldemort was really dead or alive…or where he was?

 

Lucius nodded.  “Pettigrew told Avery that he was alive, but badly injured.  He didn’t say where he went, although Avery thought Pettigrew knew.  Pettigrew seemed very upset, and afraid that he was in danger, and we never had a chance to talk to him again.”  _Well, if that’s all there is, then I guess I need to talk with Peter._   Harry changed to a different topic.

 

“When did Voldemort give you the diary?”

 

“It was long before that night, actually just after Draco was born.”

 

“What did he tell you about it?”

 

“We were alone one night.  He told me that he had opened the Chamber of Secrets while he was in school at Hogwarts.  He said he was the true heir of Salazar Slytherin, and he finally figured out how to open it, but it took him a long time.  When a girl was killed, he had to stop.  He said that Dumbledore suspected he was involved.  When he gave me the diary, he said that someday he wanted the Chamber opened again, and this book was the key to doing that.  He told me that if someone took the book to school, it would result in that person opening the Chamber and releasing Slytherin’s monster to complete the work he had started.”

 

“Did he tell you how it would do that?”

 

“No.  I asked him, but he refused to tell me.  He just said it was charmed in such a way that it would make it happen.  He suggested he would give it to someone who would appear completely innocent, and that would confuse the situation for Dumbledore.”

 

“So, after he was gone, you decided to introduce the diary back into the school and continue Voldemort’s work.”

 

“Yes.  I thought he would be pleased to know his plan was being carried out.”

 

“When he came back, did you tell him about what happened?”

 

“After he was re-born, he met with me and we discussed many things.  He asked for my help in recovering the prophecy and we discussed ways in which it might be retrieved.  At some point, he asked about the diary, and I told him what happened.  He was very upset…more than I have ever seen before.  He said I squandered a valuable opportunity, and I lost a very valuable artifact.  I have never seen him so mad, and for a while I thought he might kill me.”

 

“Do you recall exactly what he said?”  Lucius paused, obviously digging deep for the memory of the words.

 

“He said ‘ ** _You have wasted an important tool.  That diary was a special part of me, and now it is gone.  Gone!  And for no good purpose._** ’”  Harry nodded, knowing why Voldemort felt that way.  It was obvious that Lucius didn’t understand what was involved.

 

“Why do you think he said that?”

 

“I don’t know.  I could only conclude that he had put a lot of effort into the charms that made the diary do what it did, and he hadn’t planned on losing it.”

 

“Did Voldemort ever tell you about anything else he might have hidden away?  Something that might insure his return if he were injured or hurt?”

 

“No.  Twice I heard him say there was still a part of him at Hogwarts, but I always just assumed he meant he had special feeling for the school.  He never said anything more.”  Harry tried to remain passive, but the words Lucius had spoken sounded frightening.  _Is there another Horcrux still secreted away at the school?  Did Voldemort indeed find something from Ravenclaw that he could use…something left around the school?  Was there danger lurking somewhere at Hogwarts?  Maybe a book or something that dated to the founders?_   He tried to put his fears aside, but Lucius had just revealed something important.

 

“When he was re-born….that night in the cemetery, he said he had gone further than anyone towards immortality.  What did that mean to you?”

 

“I don’t know what he meant.  He had talked about it many times, but he never said anything specific about what he had done.  Once he said it was impossible to kill him…that it just couldn’t be done.  But he didn’t say why, and I wasn’t about to ask.”

 

“Did you ever talk to Peter after he was re-born?  Did you ever ask him what happened at the Potter’s that night?”

 

“Peter said he was forbidden to talk about it, so I didn’t ask again.  Everyone had questions, but only Peter seemed to know anything other than rumors.  Peter just said that the Dark Lord was injured, and he went away to recover.”

 

“Did Voldemort ever tell you what was in the prophecy?”  Lucius leered.

 

“So, you’d like to know what it said too, Potter.  No, he never said anything, except that the prophecy told him he needed to kill you.  He said he only knew part of the prophecy, and wanted to hear the rest of it.  One time, when we were alone, he told me that the part he hadn’t heard might help him figure out how to complete his dream.”

 

“Did anyone else, any other Death Eater, ever say anything about why Voldemort couldn’t be killed?  About why he was immortal?”

 

“There were lots of conversations about it.  Rodolphus said that he had sold his soul to the devil, or that he didn’t have a soul any more.  Bellatrix said she knew, but I always assumed she didn’t…she was just trying to appear more important.  She did that a lot, especially with me since I was married to her sister.  I think she wanted me to believe that she was far more important than Narcissa.”

 

“Do you think he told anyone what he meant?”

 

“It’s possible, although I don’t know who he might have told.  I know no one else knew about the diary, so it’s possible that others were told something different.”

 

“He gave you the diary to keep.  Did he ever give anyone else something to keep….something special like the diary?”

 

“I think he did, but we never spoke about it.  He seemed to trust Snape with certain things that he didn’t tell anyone else, but I always assumed that was just because Snape was spying for him at Hogwarts and might need to know things.  However, Snape didn’t know about Barty Crouch.”

 

“Did you know about Barty Crouch?”

 

“Not at first.  When Draco told me about how Potter was selected for the tournament, I thought something sounded odd.  It didn’t seem likely that would happen all by itself.  I didn’t know he was planning on returning, but there were odd rumors…little bits and pieces that sounded like something was going to happen.  Until that night in the cemetery, no one knew what he had done or what he had planned.”

 

“What happened at the cemetery that night…after I left?”  Lucius started laughing.

 

“The Dark Lord thought it was very funny.  At first, he was mad.  Everyone was afraid he might become violent since you had thwarted him yet again.  But when you disappeared, he looked around and started laughing.  Later, he told me that he had accomplished almost everything he needed that night.  He had a new body, he had broken the blood bond between you and your mother, and he had his followers back again.  His biggest concern was that you would tell Dumbledore he was back.”

 

Harry thought about what they had discussed.  Is there anything more I need to ask?  He doesn’t know about the Horcurxes, so there’s not much point in revealing anything more specific about that.  I wonder…

 

“Did you ever find out where the Potters lived?”

 

“No.  Pettigrew was apparently the secret keeper, and he disappeared.  I suppose I could ask him now, but it really doesn’t matter any more.”

 

Harry stood up.  “You have answered everything I asked, Mr. Malfoy.  You have kept your part of the bargain, and so shall I.  Assuming that I see Draco when he is captured, would you like me to tell him anything?”

 

Lucius grinned.  “Tell him I’m very proud of him.  That will do for now.”  Harry nodded and left the room.  Outside he met Lighthorse and they returned to London.  Harry now had more information to work with…and some new concerns.

 


	26. The Holiday Season Begins

The December issue of _The Quibbler_ was the largest printing ever…and it still wasn’t enough.  The demand created by Rita’s series on Voldemort had fueled demand beyond all recognition.  As Luna put it, for the first time circulation was larger than the Daily Prophet, and everyone in the wizarding world had to have a copy.

 

As Hermione unrolled her issue, many other students were doing the same thing, and the noise level within the Great Hall fell to a whisper as students began to read.  McGonagall might have made some comment to the others at the head table, if she could find someone who wasn’t similarly occupied.  It was a story that everyone wanted to know, and for the older set it was a challenge to see how the information disclosed dovetailed with their own recollections and experiences.

 

Sprawled across the cover was a montage of sneering, snarling faces, many grizzled and unkempt.  It quickly became known as the Death Eater issue, for Voldemort’s band of followers was the subject.

 

The Rise of the Death Eaters

 

At Hogwarts, indeed across the wizarding world, there was collective rustle as everyone turned the cover to find the story inside.

 

The Death Eaters and the First War

 

Though his background and claim to nobility were based upon lies and deceit, upon graduation from Hogwarts the Dark Lord began to recruit and train his minions writes Rita Skeeter.  He surrounded himself with a band of followers selected from the misguided and casts-offs of wizarding society.  His unfounded claim of pure blood was a rallying point for many, and some old families found his aim of excluding muggle-born and half blood wizards compelling.

 

Unfortunately, they eventually discovered that his rallying cries were simply a smoke screen for his own aims…the accumulation of power!  In a candid moment with one intended victim, he said “ **There is no good and evil, only Power…and those to weak to seek it!** ”  He may be many things, the but Dark Lord is clearly focused only on seeking personal power.

 

His followers were drawn into his web with assurances of power and glory, and the freedom to abuse others.  One of his frequent promises was that they would be free to torture and kill muggles as they wished, a statement sure to entice many of the marginal members of society.  A few who sought this promise included:

 

**Edward Goyle -** A large brutish man who struggled while at Hogwarts and achieved only two OWLS, one after taking a year of remedial coursework.  Typical of most Death Eaters, Goyle was unable to do anything without directions from someone else, most often from Lucius Malfoy.

**Bellatrix (Black) Lestrange** – A sadistic and unhappy woman from the pureblood Black family, she married **Rodolphus Lestrange** and together they became Death Eaters.  She and her husband were convicted of torturing Auror Frank Longbottom and his wife to the point of insanity, trying to find out what happened to the Dark Lord.  At her trial, she denounced the entire world, and promised that she would remain faithful to the Dark Lord, a promise she kept when he returned and freed her from custody at Azkaban.

(continued  - page 4)

 

There was another mass “swish” as people reached the end of the page and moved on, seeking to read more.

 

One of the Dark Lords most interesting acolytes was **Severus Snape**.  Snape was also a half-blood, although it is unclear whether the Dark Lord was aware of that when he recruited him.  Like Tom Riddle, Snape seemed to feel he was something special during his attendance at Hogwarts, and proudly proclaimed himself the “Half Blood Prince,” a rather pathetic play on words as his mother’s maiden name was Prince.

 

However, a quick poll of those who attended school with him discloses he was anything but special.  “ ** _He was just a greasy-haired kid who came to school knowing more dark curses and hexes than everyone else put together_** ” was the comment from one fellow student.  His descent into darkness was completed when he joined the Dark Lord.  However, in a ploy to remain somewhat respectable and also spy for his master, he pleaded with Albus Dumbledore to help him redeem himself after confessing his mistakes.  The result was more than ten years of inflicting himself upon the students of Hogwarts as the Potions instructor.

 

When the Dark Lord accepted a new member, their initiation included a “branding” where the now-famous Dark Mark was burned into the forearm of the recruit, both as an mark of membership and as a way to summon his minions.  When he touched the mark of any Death Eater, the others would feel the Mark burn and immediately join the Dark Lord.

It is most interesting to note that when the Dark Lord fell before young Harry Potter, his followers immediately declared they had been taken in, or were under an Imperious Curse.  When confronted, they almost all pleaded innocence or befuddlement, with only a handful accepting any responsibility for their actions.

 

Next:  What happened when the Dark Lord returned.

 

There were comments and snickers throughout the student body as they read the comments about Severus Snape, unquestionably the least popular teacher in recent years.  Even those in Slytherin House found the information interesting…and amusing.  Most all of the older students found Rita’s choice of the word “inflicting” very appropriate, especially when they compared his classes to Slughorn.  Ron was about to comment to Hermione when another owl flew into the room, descending to the table directly in front of him.  It was Percy’s owl Hermes, and Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all stared as he hopped towards Ron, a letter attached to his leg.

 

Ron remembered the last letter he received from Percy as he opened this envelope.  Percy had been very critical of Dumbledore and supportive of Delores Umbridge before.  Now what did he want?  The answer wasn’t long in coming.

 

_Dear Ron,_

_I have been remiss in not writing after I heard that you were named Head Boy.  I am very pleased to hear that you are following in my footsteps.  I have found that being able to list that position on my resume has been very helpful, as I’m sure you will._

_I also want share some other information with you.  Even though Dumbledore is now gone, the school has remained rather unhelpful in dealing with the current situation.  As you may know, the school was not going to re-open this year until the Minister spoke to the Board of Governors.  He was finally able to make them understand that things must be normal to avoid scaring people needlessly._

_Unfortunately, some of the publicity surrounding one of your friends has not helped the cause, and I feel it my duty to warn you of the situation.  Misguided articles in the Daily Prophet have created the idea that Harry Potter will be the one to vanquish the Dark Lord.  However, as I am sure you are aware, the idea that a young wizard with no special training could defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is obviously ridiculous.  The Aurors are very close to finding the Dark Lord, and it will be those with much more experience and training who will finally bring him to trial.  Because Potter is considered so unbalanced, he was even expelled from the school, a step that is never taken lightly._

_I am concerned, however, that you may be taken in by these reports and that Potter might force you to join him in some adventure that would place you in danger.  Please consider your future if he approaches you with a proposal for some expedition to save the world._

_Your brother,_

_Percy_

 

Ron just stared at the parchment, unable to believe what Percy had written.  After everything that had happened, he still seemed to cling to a view of the world divorced from any reality.  Without a word, he handed the letter to Hermione, who read quietly with Ginny peering over her shoulder.  Ginny finished first.

 

“He...is…such…a…Git!” she exclaimed, looking for something to throw or slam.  In desperation, she picked up her fork, raised it high in the air, and violently impaled a sausage on the plate in front of her.  Hermione finally finished and looked up, her face stuck between serious and utter amusement.

 

“Well, he’s consistent.  He still doesn’t get it.”  Ron remained silent, so mad he could not find the words to express his contempt.  Then he spoke.

 

“When it’s over, I want to walk straight into the Ministry and **_Crucio_** him over and over until he admits he’s an idiot.”  Then he calmed a bit.  “But mum and dad probably wouldn’t want me to.”  He glared at Ginny, who just glared back, neither of them mad at the other, just frustrated by the moron who still claimed membership in the family.  Hermione folded the letter and tore it into pieces, wishing she could obliviate the memory of it also.  Ron just continued to glare, trying to think of anything that would change the last few minutes.  Then Ginny spoke up.

 

“Ron, why don’t you ask Harry to put his picture on the wall…next to Snape?”  That did it, and they all started laughing as everyone else at the table looked on, wishing they could share whatever the joke was.  However, others who were reading were equally unhappy…and did not have a joke to lighten the mood.

 

 

“So Severus, you have become enraged by this senseless twattle?”

 

“My Lord, this has clearly come from Potter.  He was the only one who would have such information,” Snape foamed, his sense of outrage written bold across his face.

 

“But surely this is no surprise, Severus.  This is merely a way for the Ministry to deflect the accusations that they are inept and bungling.”  Snape, however, was not to be mollified by words.  He sought deeds and actions.

 

“My Lord, this is…Potter!” he spat, showing contempt for the very existence of his nemesis.  “It must be confronted directly!”  Snape did not immediately recognize his error, but Voldemort was more than happy to point it out.

 

“Well, if it really bothers you that much, Severus, I suggest you do something about it.  Now, tell me again, how close are we to knowing where Potter is?  Which students have you questioned?  Has your intrusion into the feeble minds of Weasley and Granger told you of his whereabouts?  And when will I have a chance to question Trelawney?”  Snape immediately closed his mind, finally recognizing that he had opened a door to view both his thoughts and his inaction.

 

“My Lord, I have made several trips to Hogsmeade without result.  As Draco observed, the students are not allowed to visit the village this year, and the staff seems to be content to remain at the school at all times.”  Snape had actually done nothing, believing that Draco should shoulder some responsibility.  However, he had to report something!

 

“I have attempted to enter the school, but even the secret passages have been closed and warded.  I believe I can penetrate one of them, but I can not predict the results, for I suspect there are Enchantments in place that would signal an alarm if they are tampered with.”  The Dark Lord considered his words and then spoke again.

 

“Severus, I am growing tired of hearing what can not be done.  Given your experience and expertise, I expected greater efforts…and greater results.  I have limited expectations for Malfoy; he is young, inexperienced, and without adult guidance given his father’s current status.  You, however, are not!”  He lowered his face to gaze directly at Severus.  “I strongly suggest that you need to place more emphasis on effort and a little less on your personal safety.  This is not a time for half measures.  The sooner we find Potter, the sooner I can deal with him directly.  And THAT is what I expect!”

 

The Dark Lord turned away, making it clear that he was done talking.  Snape left the room, quietly muttering to himself.  _Though he denies it, The Quibbler is starting to bother him.  I might be able to stop Rita Skeeter, but then Potter would only find someone else.  I need to find Potter._   Snape went outside to walk, still bothered by the appearance of his name and the derogatory comments attached to him.  _It’s Potter!  It’s always Potter!  First it was James, and now it’s his meddlesome son!  Potter!  POTTER!  I HATE YOU!  BOTH OF YOU!_

 

 


	27. A Dire Prediction

Even more than usual the final days of the term at Hogwarts were filled with excitement.  Given the tensions within the wizarding community, everyone was looking forward to going home to family and friends, and the letters from parents were filled with “glad you’ll be home soon” comments.  McGonagall and the entire staff were very pleased at the complete absence of problems at the school, and Tonks and the other Aurors were happy they’d had nothing significant to deal with, unless you counted the many episodes with Peeves, who seemed to feel that this was his coming out year.

 

Ron and Hermione had found that being Head Boy and Head Girl had definite advantages, and since they were not involved in the bed checks, they often shared each other’s rooms for the night.  Tonks knew about it, but told Hermione it wasn’t on her list of things to report, so she simply kept their secret to herself.  She wasn’t about to begrudge Hermione when she had finally discovered how wonderful it was to share herself with the wolfman she loved.

 

On Saturday morning, everyone rushed through breakfast and then dashed to the train, wishing they could simply apparate or floo home.  For the first time in history, the train was loaded and ready to leave more than an hour before the scheduled time, and after a conference with McGonagall, the engineer pulled the lever early and they were off.  With the students on their way, the staff finally had a day where they didn’t have to worry about their wards, and many took the opportunity to escape to Hogsmeade.

 

Horace Slughorn and Hagrid made an interesting couple as they headed into Madam Rosmerta’s establishment, intent upon consuming large quantities of intoxicating beverage.  They had forged an unlikely bond when Aragog died, and ever since that time Hagrid kept Slughorn supplied with some of the more exotic ingredients for his potions, not to mention helping him supplement his paycheck.  They parked themselves at a table in the front corner and watched other staff members walk by in the snow, commenting about this and that as they emptied several glasses between them.

 

McGonagall came by, stopping to watch a group of carolers sing on the porch of what used to be Zonko’s.  The building was completely boarded up, and no one knew exactly why.  It was automatically assumed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had something to do with it, but no one really knew.  Given the times, anything odd was automatically blamed upon him.

 

Down the street at the Hogs Head, Aberforth Dumbledore was also busy, serving a steady stream of visitors who had come to the village to celebrate the impending holidays with a trip away from home.  Given the nature of his clientele, it was not surprising that many were slightly different.  In one corner, the usual gang of dwarfs sat playing cards.  At another table three hags sat together, the faces covered as they gossiped and drank.

 

The door opened and in walked Sibyll Trelawney, who had decided she need to augment her usual diet of sherry with something more palatable.  She took the Pink Passion she ordered and sat down at a table by herself, pulling out a set of tarot cards and studying the future.  It wasn’t long before she looked up to find a man approaching her table.

 

“I wonder if I might have a word with you?”  The man seemed young but remained hooded, which wasn’t all that uncommon in the Hogs Head.  As she looked up, she felt wonderfully warm and comfortable, as if his voice had a calming effect on her entire being.

 

“What would you like?” she responded.  She was never comfortable with strangers, but this man seemed quite friendly.

 

“I hoped you might be able to help me with a prediction?”  Considering the alcohol level in her bloodstream, Sibyll wasn’t really in any condition to predict anything other than her own inevitable hangover, but she was flattered that someone would ask, and she quickly agreed.  She motioned for the man to sit down, but he declined.

 

“I need to show you something.  Then, perhaps, you will be better able to understand exactly my…erm…situation.”  Sibyll was even more flattered, and she quickly agreed to leave, taking her drink with her as the man escorted her outside.  In the back corner of the room, another man rose and left, hardly noticed amongst the wraiths of smoke that filled the air.

 

 

Several hours later, Sibyll awoke to find herself in a small room, comfortably furnished with a bed and washstand.  She got up, thinking she should try to return to the castle, but she found the door strangely unwilling to open.  She seldom carried a wand, and had none now, so she simply sat down and waited, assuming someone would be along soon to see why she hadn’t re-appeared.  As her brain began to function again, she became more and more confused for she had no idea where she was, or how she came to be here.  As she pondered her situation, there was a squeak and the door opened.  Draco Malfoy was standing in the opening, a demonic sneer plastered to his face.

 

He said nothing as he led her to a larger room just down the hall where the Dark Lord waited.  She did not recognize him and simply sat down in the chair that Draco provided.

 

“Welcome Sibyll.  I have wanted to meet you for some time.”  She nodded, still somewhat befuddled by the situation.  “I would like to ask you a few questions.”

 

“And…who are you?” she asked.

 

“Oh.  I’m sorry.  I should have introduced myself.  My name is Lord Voldemort.”  Whatever confusion she was feeling immediately disappeared as she began to understand what had happened to her.  She shrieked, and immediately collapsed into wailing tears.  Voldemort just smiled and waited, assuming her attack would eventually run its course.  Finally, he decided to intervene, lifting his wand to return her calm.

 

“Now, I would like to ask you what you remember about the prophecy regarding Harry Potter.”  Sibyll looked completely confused.  She had no idea what he was talking about.  Voldemort was staring at her, his mind focused on her thoughts.  “Do you recall the night you were interviewed by Albus Dumbledore?  The night he hired you to teach at Hogwarts?”

 

Sibyll immediately thought of that night in her room at the Hogs Head.  Voldemort joined her thoughts as she recalled the conversation.  Voldemort watched as she talked with Dumbledore.  It was easy to see that Dumbledore wasn’t impressed: his usual passive, controlled expressions replaced with occasional looks of disbelief and outright incredulity.  Then her memory seemed to change and Dumbledore disappeared into a white fog.  Eventually, the scene refocused, as Aberforth crashed into the room, dragging a much younger Severus Snape with him.  Sibyll continued to recall the evening, while Voldemort pondered exactly what to do next.  He turned, and spoke to the darkness in the corner.

 

“Severus, you were observing also, I assume.”  Snape came out of the shadows, and Sibyll gasped as she recognized him.

 

“You!  What are you doing here?”  It wasn’t really a question, but rather an exclamation.  Snape just smiled.

 

“Severus, do you think the actual memory is still there, perhaps hiding behind the fog?”

 

“My Lord, I am suspicious that she may not have ever had one.  I have never searched for a prophetic memory before, but from what I know, the voice is seldom that of the seer, so it may well be the seer does not know or remember what is said.”  Voldemort considered this, and then decided to proceed.  He had nothing to lose.

 

“I believe we should look further.  Perhaps some assistance might be helpful.”  Snape wasn’t sure that it was going to change anything, but he recognized when the Dark Lord had sought to see Trelawney that he wasn’t going to casually release her after the discussion.  He turned and casually waved his wand, putting Sibyll into a deep sleep.

 

While she slumbered, Voldemort began to examine her thoughts, swimming his way through years and years of intoxication, searching for something that didn’t actually exist.  From time to time he would ask Snape for an opinion, but other than that the room remained silent.  Together, they searched until every corner of her mind had been reviewed.  There was nothing there, and when they were done, what had been there was completely destroyed.

 


	28. Home for the Holidays

When the train stopped at platform 9 ¾, everyone on board took a deep breath.  They were back in the real world, but one that offered less security than Hogwarts.  For most, it meant being reunited with loved ones, but for Ron and Hermione it also meant days of separation from each other, and that was not something to look forward to.  Hermione knew that her parents were standing on the other side of the barrier, waiting to take her home…back to the muggle world.  Much as she looked forward to seeing them, she also hoped she could convince them to allow her visit to be short.  In the back of her mind, she had a plan to make that happen.

 

As Ginny got off the train, she looked around, assuming her parents would be waiting.  She hadn’t spoken with her mother since she left home before the school year began, and only briefly with her father while they were at the Dursleys.  She expected a less than warm welcome from her mother, given their words before she escaped to Harry’s, but she somehow didn’t much care, after all, it was her mother who forced her to make the choice.

 

Since didn’t immediately see her parents she decided to go through the barrier and wait on the other side.  It turned out to be a good decision.  Hermione was hugging her parents as Ginny came out into the main station at King’s Cross and she immediately called Ginny over.  When she approached, Hermione handed her a small note and smiled.  Ginny glanced at the writing and immediately looked at Hermione.

 

_You need to go to the restroom._

 

Hermione grinned and nodded, pointing across the platform towards the station waiting rooms.  Ginny had no idea what this was about, but Hermione seemed to think it was okay, so she decided to go, leaving Hermione to watch her trunk.  As she entered the station, she looked around, trying to figure out where the restrooms were.  Overhead she found a red and black sign with an arrow pointing to a corridor and headed that way.

 

There was a mother with two children coming out of the ladies room when she entered the hall, and a man stopped at the drinking fountain.  She stepped aside to let the woman pass and then gasped as the man stood up and turned around.  Harry just smiled as he walked a couple steps and took her into his arms.

 

“I couldn’t let you go home without reminding you how much I love you,” he said, kissing her gently.  She almost collapsed as the joy of her lover’s touch infused her soul.  _To hell with the Burrow_ …t _his is my home!_

 

“As soon as you can, come see me.  I want you and Ron and Hermione all there.  If you can manage it before Christmas, so much the better.  Tell your parents….”  He stopped, suddenly deciding something.  “No, don’t say anything to your parents.”  Ginny looked puzzled.  “Go tell your father I want to see him…right now.  I’ll wait here.  Don’t tell him I’m here…just bring him inside.  Just the two of you.”

 

Ginny just nodded dumbly.  She had no idea what he was talking about, but she trusted Harry.  That was enough in her book, and she returned to the platform outside the barrier, waiting for her parents to appear.  Hermione and her parents had gone, and Ginny just watched as others came through the barrier: parents and children reunited after difficult separations.  Ron finally appeared, with Molly and Arthur following.

 

“Ginny, where did you go?”

 

“I just had to go to the restroom, mother.”  Molly seemed satisfied with the answer, and went back to her conversation with Ron.  Ginny pulled her father aside for a private conversation.  “Dad, would you come with me for a minute.  There’s something I need to show you.”  Arthur looked surprised.  Somehow it just didn’t sound like something Ginny would say, but it didn’t sound dangerous.

 

“Molly, I’ll be right back.”

 

“Where are you going, Arthur?  The driver is waiting.”

 

“I need to check something.  I’ll just be a minute.”  Molly looked impatient, but Arthur just smiled and he followed Ginny into the station, having no idea what was waiting.  Ginny walked towards the ticket counter, and then turned into a narrow aisle filled with rental lockers.  Harry was standing at the end, and Arthur didn’t seem remotely upset to see him there.

 

“Thank you for coming, Mr. Weasley.  I wanted to talk with you, but I didn’t want to be seen out on the platform.”  Arthur nodded, quickly making sense of what Harry had said.

 

“What can I do for you Harry?”  Harry smiled, outwardly calm while trying to control the dragons raging inside his chest.

 

“Mr. Weasley, I need to tell you something.  I don’t want to be running around behind your back, after all the things you’ve done for me.”  Arthur wasn’t sure where Harry was going.  Was there some secret that Harry hadn’t revealed?

 

“Mr. Weasley, I…Ginny and I have been dating for some time now, even though we don’t get to see each other much this year.”  Harry wasn’t sure whether Arthur had known this or not.  It wasn’t really a secret, but sometimes parents just missed obvious clues, and he was sure Ginny hadn’t said much at home, fearing her mother’s response.  “I’m sure you have plans for your family at Christmas, but I would like to have Ginny and Ron come to visit me over the holidays.”  Arthur just nodded, looking at Harry and then over at Ginny.  Her expression told him more than anything Harry had said.

 

“I’m sure there will be time for that, Harry.  We are having the entire family at home for the first time in many years.  Fleur will be there with Bill, and you are welcome to join us if you’d like.”  Harry hadn’t thought much about Christmas itself, other than a couple of daydreams where he and Ginny spent the morning in bed, molesting each other until they were exhausted.

 

“I would like that every much, Mr. Wesley.  I’ll be there.  Is there anything I can bring?”  Arthur shook his head.

 

“No.  Just pop in sometime in the morning, I’m sure everyone will be up early.  Or better yet, come over the night before.  We’ll find a place for you somewhere.”  Harry grinned and nodded his agreement, then pulled Ginny into his arms again.  Arthur smiled and turned to leave.

 

“You need to be right along, Ginny.  I can’t hold off your mother forever.”  Ginny grinned, and then turned back into Harry’s embrace.  Her holidays had just gotten much brighter.

 

Fred and George were waiting at the car, and all during the drive to the Burrow Ginny and Ron had to retell the tale of their encounter at the Dursleys.  Molly was completely beside herself hearing the details.  Her two youngest had been in yet another pitched battle with the Death Eaters!  But at the same time, they seemed so mature about what happened, how they planned what they would do and how they stood up to two adult wizards.  Somewhere, amongst all those misgivings she had, was pride.

 

Arthur, on the other hand, wasn’t listening at all.  He was thinking about something else.  _Why did Harry tell me that?  Did he think I would be upset?  Are he and Ginny…?  No!  They’re too young.  They couldn’t be, could they?  But Molly and I weren’t much older.  We decided in our sixth year, which is where Ginny is now._   He finally put the whole thing aside.  Whatever his daughter was doing, he suspected he couldn’t prevent it.  And in any case, he wasn’t sure he wanted to try.  _Despite the danger, she could do much worse._

 

 

The days before Christmas flew by quickly, for everyone.  Harry assumed that his friends would be visiting between Christmas Day and New Years, so he began considering the things he wanted to discuss with them.  The last time they were together, they had solved the mystery of the locket, and now he wanted to tackle the remaining Horcruxes.  He looked at the wall, searching the pictures for clues yet again.  There was little question about the cup, only it’s location.  That left two big questions…Ravenclaw and Gryffindor!  Somehow they needed to identify what they might be looking for, and Harry hoped Hermione might provide yet another answer.

 

The list of Death Eaters hadn’t changed, but Harry assumed there might be new ones now, fresh recruits he knew nothing about.  Mentally, he often added a few more to the wall, blank sheets that represented others which had no names.  On a whim, he had added Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe.  He didn’t know, but had nothing to lose by assuming.

 

Meanwhile at the Burrow, Ginny overheard her father talking with her mother, and she knew the door had been opened.  She and Ron compared notes, both trying to insure they did nothing to upset Molly before they asked to go.

 

Hermione told her parents that she had some special projects she needed to work on.  They knew only a little of the unrest in the wizarding world, and she simply explained that it was her last year and she had many special responsibilities as Head Girl.  Oddly, her parents didn’t seem to have a problem with that.  They were more interested in discussing what would happen after school was over.

 

While they didn’t expect her to suddenly return to life as a muggle, they did press her about her plans for the future and how she envisioned her relationship with them.  Not surprisingly, none of them really had any answers.  Hermione - because it all depended upon Voldemort; her parents - because they just had no experience to fall back upon.  In the end, it was left more or less as “we’ll see” with everyone understanding that they didn’t want to see their family separated and apart.

 


	29. Harry Potter and the Twist of Time

Chapter 29 – ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas

A couple days before Christmas, Harry ventured forth again, spending quite a while in Diagon Alley shopping for his friends. Although he was used to it by now, there was still the usual attention when people recognized him. He hid out for a while at Fred and George’s shop, waiting for some of the gawkers to move on. Fred suggested they should hire him…to walk up and down the alley and then run into the shop, bringing the curious with him. Harry laughed and drank his butterbeer.

In some ways, his most interesting stop was actually Gingotts. The goblins at the door were friendly, almost to a fault, and even the goblin driving his cart seemed more than respectful. He made arrangements to have the contents of Sirius’ vault transferred to his own, exchanged some wizard funds for coin of the realm, and then left for some more shopping. Knowing how much was now in his vault, he felt guilty. It was far more than he would ever need and he decided to share his good fortune with his friends.

For a while, he left his purchases with Tom and ventured out into muggle-land. His first stop was a shop in London where he took a long time, carefully selecting the things he wanted. The shopkeeper was very helpful, pointing out things that Harry would never have considered. When he was done there, he searched the ads of _The Times_ , finally finding what he wanted in a listing that took him to a farm in York. After some negotiation with the farmer, he made his purchase, and, since he couldn’t do magic right in front of a muggle, he finally resorted to a non-verbal sleeping spell to get the time to compress his purchase to a more manageable size. His last stop was Quality Quidditch Supplies, to pick up some things he had ordered weeks before. 

It was nearly dark when he returned home, carrying two bags full of little things that would become much larger things when he released the compression charms. After wrapping everything, he was finally ready for Christmas, with two very special presents that he purchased in London.

 

Wednesday afternoon, Christmas Eve, Harry spent his last minutes at home sitting in the War Room and thinking. He sketched out a list of things he wanted to discuss and questions he wanted the gang to consider when they returned. He also anticipated that certain questions would arise, so he prepared for them also. After a brief frenzy of cleaning, he re-compressed everything he wanted to take, placed them into a couple shopping bags, and headed out.

 

Without any warning, Harry appeared on the dirt lane leading to the Burrow. Ron was just coming out of the broom shed and jumped as Harry materialized in front of him. Harry grinned as Ron slowly regained his normal colour and came to greet him.

"Gave me quite a shock there, mate!" Harry nodded.

"Sorry. I didn’t expect anyone to be this far away from the house." Ron gave him a hug and then looked at the bags Harry was carrying.

"What’s all that?"

"Well, I couldn’t very well come for Christmas without bringing presents now, could I?" Ron looked a little confused.

"They all fit in those little bags?" Harry smiled yet again.

"They do right now. They will hardly fit in the house when I release the compression charms…and one won’t fit in the house at all." Ron finally understood, and grabbed one of the bags, leading Harry towards the house. As always, they went around to the back and entered the kitchen where Molly was hard at work on dinner.

"Oh, Harry. I’ve been so worried about you," she said, pushing a cauldron of potatoes aside and running to hug him. He had grown used to this treatment from Molly and hardly even noticed it any more. "Are you getting enough to eat, Harry?" she said as she stood back to look at him. He nodded, but of course she had to exclaim that he looked undernourished.

"I used to do the cooking at the Dursleys, so I can pretty well fend for myself." He turned to Ron. "I still haven’t got the hang of doing it magically, but I manage." Ron grinned, and started to pull Harry towards the living room. Charlie was sitting on the floor, playing some sort of board game with Bill while Fleur watched. She immediately hopped up and came over.

"Oh ’arry. It’s so good to see you," she gushed as she kissed both his cheeks. Bill just grinned, knowing Harry was trying hard to avoid the veela effect. Harry seemed to do much better than Ron, who still struggled from time to time.

 

"How are you Fleur? How is your sister?"

"I am fine," she said, turning to smile at Bill. It was obvious to Harry that they were very much in love, and despite everything else, Harry was very happy for them. "Gabrielle iz back in school and she is zee best in her class." Harry wasn’t sure if this was true or not, but it didn’t really seem to matter. "Bill and I are going to France for New Years so ‘e can meet all my family."

"Oh…I’m sure that will be very nice," Harry said, having no idea whether Bill really wanted to go or not. Harry guessed it was just part of the deal with getting married. Bill continued to smile, and Harry had no idea what he really thought of it.

"Harry, you have to come upstairs," Ron interrupted, trying to free him from the conversation. "There’s something I have to show you." Harry nodded, waved hello and goodbye to Charlie, and headed up the stairs. At the second landing, he decided to ask.

"What’s so important, Ron?" Ron smirked, like he knew the greatest secret in the world. Rather than say anything, he continued up one more flight until they reached Ginny’s door. There he stopped and Harry just looked at him. Ron knocked twice on the door, and then pushed Harry through it. As he looked back through the door, Ron disappeared as the door closed, and Harry heard him utter a sealing charm. Finally he turned around.

Ginny was sitting on the bed, but it was Ginny as he had never seen her before. She was dressed in typical muggle clothes…a pair of denim jeans and a simple knit top, but Harry immediately sensed that the top had been selected to show off her developing figure. Her hair was styled much differently, and she was wearing make up. Her lips shimmered with a gloss that sparkled and her smile melted his heart.

"Hello, Harry," she said simply. "I’m very happy to see you." Her smile never wavered, but inside it was all she could do to sit. For two knuts (or less), she would gladly wave her wand, make their clothes disappear, and jump into his arms. Harry just continued to look, seeing a another new side to the woman he loved so much. Very slowly, she got up from the bed and walked towards him, taking far too much time to cross a very small room. Harry’s eyes got bigger and bigger as she came closer. He could smell her perfume wafting through the air, and every cell in his body was now awake and fully alert.

Very slowly, he opened his arms and gathered her in, gently guiding her face to his. When their lips touched, it was as if they had completely fused together, becoming one in every possible way. When they finally parted for a moment, Harry looked into her eyes.

"I’m going to make this your best Christmas ever, Ginny." Her eyes began to tear.

"You already have, Harry," she whispered, and pulled him onto the bed for some serious snogging.

 

The dinner table at the Burrow was crowded. Along with six of the seven Weasley children, none of whom were actually children any more, there were two parents and three guests…Fleur, Harry, and Hermione, who had managed to convince her parents to have an early celebration so she could be with Ron for the actual Holiday. Only Percy was missing, and sad to say, no one really missed him. There was an unspoken agreement that his name wouldn’t be mentioned, and during the entire evening it wasn’t.

After dinner, they slowly wandered into the living room, or rather what space was left in the living room. Arthur had managed to procure a very large tree from somewhere down the road, and Ron and Ginny had taken some time to conjure decorations that would rival anything in a muggle house. With everyone home, there were large stacks of presents, and Harry was hard pressed to find enough space as he uncompressed the things he had carried. A couple of the bigger things he had just left compressed, figuring he’d work it out in the morning.

There were packages of every possible description: long narrow ones, tall skinny ones, and short, dumpy round ones, each gaily wrapped in bright paper and ribbon. With Arthur’s promotion had come a significant raise, and with everyone but Ginny and Ron now employed, the family had a little extra money to spend for the first time in forever. It wasn’t really important, for this was not a group that thrived on displays of wealth, but it was nice to have some additional income to share with loved ones.

After a couple rounds of butterbeer, and some eggnog secretly spiked with Ol’ Johnson’s, they decided it was time for bed, and one by one they trooped up the stairs. Harry pulled Hermione aside for a moment, planted a big sloppy kiss on her cheek, and then departed for the top landing and a small space in Ron’s room. Hermione was sharing Ginny’s room, and they also departed, giggling about something they didn’t share with anyone else.

Once inside, Ron changed for bed and looked at Harry. "So, are you going to tell me what’s in that package?’ he asked. Harry just looked askance.

"Ron, it’s a Christmas present. You’ll have to wait until Christmas morning to find out."

"Harry, what is it? Come on. You can tell me."

"Nope. No deal, Ron." Harry’s grin was far too wide, and Ron knew something was up…he just didn’t’ know what. He decided to change the subject.

"What did you get Ginny?" Harry turned serious.

"That, Ronald Weasley, is between Ginny and me. She may or may not decide to tell you. She will not _show_ you." Ron grinned.

"Oh, it’s probably some sexy knickers, I suppose."

"And if it is?"

"I guess I won’t tell you what I got Hermione, either then." Harry nodded, and Ron grinned.

"Probably better if you don’t." Ron was disappointed. He really wanted to know what was going on between Harry and his little sister. Actually, he didn’t want to know. Thus far, Harry had been very quiet about his relationship with Ginny, and somehow that made Ron feel better about the whole thing. It sometimes bothered Ron that Harry didn’t seem to want to know about his relationship with Hermione. He wasn’t sure he wanted to say anything, but he did want to prove he was…well…normal.

Harry changed into his pajamas, but made no move to pull the cot out of the corner where it was stored. Instead he reached into his robes and pulled out a small package and his watch. "Let’s see…I think another thirty seconds." Ron was puzzled, and had no idea what Harry was talking about. What would happen in thirty seconds? Then Harry pulled out his wand, sealed the door, and silenced the room. Ron was about to ask what the hell was going on when Harry turned to him, smiled, and disappeared with a pop. Moments later, there was another pop and Hermione appeared, grinning as she walked over to the bed.

"We decided…well, Harry and I decided, that we thought the sleeping arrangements would work better this way." Ron’s gobsmacked expression slowly changed as she removed her robe, revealing a very short, clingy negligée in light pink, and a whole lot of Hermione. There was even more that he could see through the fabric, and he was instantly anxious to go exploring. Hermione just grinned and climbed into bed beside him, kissing him passionately as she slid her hand beneath his waistband. One floor down, Ginny tested the Silencing Charm Hermione had cast when Harry suddenly appeared next to her bed.

"Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you," he said, smiling as he held out his hand and showing her a small package sitting in his palm. "I thought you might prefer to open this privately. Ginny gasped as she recovered from his sudden appearance and then gasped again when she saw the box. _What can it be? Why is he giving it to me now?_

"You may not need this right now…but maybe someday you will." She continued to stare. _What does he mean?_ As he nodded, she took the package and slowly started to unwrap it, pulling the bow aside, and trying to remove the paper without tearing it. "You can be a little more violent if you wish. The paper isn’t real important." She finally attacked, tearing the wrapping into little pieces as she searched for what was inside.

When she freed it, she found a small, square, velvet-covered cube that hinged in the middle. She looked up at Harry, seeking his approval to continue. He was still smiling and simply nodded to her, silently telling her to proceed. She lifted the lid…and screamed. Harry looked around, trusting that Hermione had followed his directions. If not, he was probably in deep dragon dung when Arthur and Molly found him in Ginny’s room. Then he looked back. She had closed the box again and her eyes were wide, with tears running from…well, from everywhere.

Harry just smiled as he took the box from her and opened it again. He removed the ring, gently took her hand and slid it onto her finger. Then he looked up again. He had practiced his lines over and over again, but even though he knew exactly what to say, the words struggled to come out.

"Ginny. In less…less than eight…months, you will…turn…turn 17. When that day comes, I want to marry you. Will you marry me, Ginny?" It was phrased as a question, but as is often the case, it really wasn’t. He thought he knew the answer…in fact, he KNEW he knew the answer…and he was right. Ginny just stared at her hand…at her finger…unable to speak, unable to control the shaking in her hand. Like many girls, she had often dreamed of this day, and for the last year her dreams had always included Harry. And now her dreams had come true.

"Harry…I…." She stopped and looked at him through her tear-filled eyes. "I will marry you." He smiled and pulled her into his embrace. She couldn’t stop crying, but Harry knew that was all right. They were tears of joy…the best possible kind.


	30. Christmas at the Burrow

Chapter 30 – Christmas at the Burrow

Christmas morning dawned early, a cool crisp winter morning featuring bright sunshine and a little frost on the windows. With the exception of Charlie, in each room people awakened to find themselves with someone else. Fred and George had moved mountains of boxes to create places to sleep, and woke up by discussing their plans for the shop and new products they wanted to create. Everyone else had more important things to discuss.

Arthur and Molly spent a few minutes discussing the state of their family, concluding that it was likely to get bigger if Harry and Hermione had anything to say about it. They concluded that Ron and Ginny were both very young, but could they ever find better potential partners for either of them? With that decided, Arthur decided there was no rush to rise, and began playing his usual game with Molly…a game that she quickly joined.

Bill and Fleur began their usual morning ritual, with her sitting on top while he lay back and enjoyed the view.

Hermione wiggled a little as she woke up, remembering where she was. The bed was small, but with Ron’s arms wrapped around her there was plenty of room. She knew Harry would return sooner or later, but it didn’t bother her. They had both acknowledged that risk when they set this up yesterday. It simply didn’t matter. She kissed Ron’s ear, which was the nearest available body part, and he began to respond. There was time for another round before breakfast.

Harry was lying on his back, staring up. He was watching a bug of some sort walk across the ceiling, wondering how it stayed attached when it was upside down. Without his glasses, he couldn’t make out details, but he still found the whole thing amazing. Ginny mumbled something and moved, rediscovering his arm and pulling it around her. Then she woke up, looked at him, and smiled.

"Good morning, Ginny," he said. "How’s my future wife?" Ginny just purred and snuggled tighter, pushing her breasts into his chest and rubbing her nipples against his skin. Harry knew that couldn’t last for long, and began to play his own game, first running his fingers through her hair and then down to caress her arse. She started responding to his touch, and their mouths sought each other. _I don’t want this to ever end. I want to wake up every morning beside him. Boy, I’m going to be sore. I don’t care._

Fred and George were actually the first ones to rise. Noisily they stomped up and down the stairs, non-verbally making it known that morning had come. They suspected…hell, they knew…that everyone else but Charlie was busy exchanging personal presents, but sooner or later breakfast needed to be served. Eventually, they resorted to loud conversations and banging on doors, and the couples finally decided it was time to face the day.

Harry reluctantly got up and put on his pajamas, knowing he was immediately going to take them off again. However, since Hermione hadn’t appeared, he knew he should try to be presentable when he returned to Ron’s room. With one last kiss for Ginny, he picked up his wand and disappeared.

When he arrived in Ron’s room, he found Hermione standing in her knickers while looking for her robe. He immediately blushed and turned away, but Hermione didn’t seem remotely upset.

"Harry, could you toss me my robe," she said, without a hint of embarrassment. "It’s right there beside you." Harry blushed even more as he picked it up and held it behind him. She giggled and walked over, wrapping her arms around him. "Harry," she whispered, and giggled some more, "it’s me. You don’t have to hide." As if Harry’s face wasn’t red enough she had to say that! He was seriously looking for someplace to hide, but Hermione wasn’t about to back down.

"Harry Potter, how dare you turn your back on me!" Hermione was scolding him, and he couldn’t even respond, both because he was completely tongue-tied, and because he couldn’t think of anything to say. Ron just stayed in the bed, enjoying his friend’s little scene. She grabbed Harry by the shoulders and spun him around. He still held her robe, and she looked him straight in the eye…or rather, she tried to. Harry had his eyes squeezed shut. "Harry, open your eyes!" He did nothing. "Harry, open your eyes this minute!" Harry slightly open one eye, just enough to see her glaring at him.

"Harry Potter, OPEN YOUR EYES!" He finally obeyed, but tried to look up at the ceiling. She grabbed his head and pulled his eyes to hers. "Don’t you ever do that, Harry," she said, sounding very mad while grinning from ear to ear. "You are my best friend, and I don’t care what you see." Harry just nodded dumbly, trying not to look at anything other than her eyes. She stepped back a bit, and his field of vision grew larger…a little too large for Harry’s desires.

Hermione just stood there, her hands on her hips. She was wearing a brief pair of red knickers that revealed much of the lovely mound between her legs. Harry also noticed a number of reddish marks…little love bites scattered around her breasts. She continued to grin at him, and then held out her hand for her robe. He gladly handed it to her, hoping she would promptly put it on. She did, but she took her time, enjoying every moment of Harry’s discomfort. Finally, when she had gathered everything, she walked back up to him.

"Harry, I love you dearly. I’m not afraid of you, and neither is Ron. You can still touch me…you can still hug me…you can still kiss me. I want those things, Harry, and so does Ron. We’re still your friends, and always will be. We know you love Ginny, and we want you to. But don’t stop loving us." Harry thought he saw a little tear in the corner of her eye as she spoke. Then she kissed his cheek and disappeared, leaving Harry to confront Ron.

"Ron, I don’t…"

"Don’t say anything, Harry. She said everything we want you to know. All you need to do is believe it, because it’s true." Harry sat on the end of the bed, overcome by his feelings _. I don’t deserve these people. I’m just me, but the treat me so special. How can I ever repay them for what they’ve given me all these years? What can I possible do?_

Ron sat up and crawled to the end of the bed, wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulders. "Merry Christmas, Harry." For a long time the two of them just leaned together, silently sharing thoughts and discovering the wonders of the world they now lived in.

 

Molly outdid herself for breakfast. Actually, there was much more than she had planned, because it seemed that almost everyone had contributed something to the meal. Bacon, ham, sausages, kippers, fried potatoes, eggs, muffins, croissants, and all other manner of sweet rolls covered the table and everyone ate far more than required. Fleur was complaining she would gain 20 pounds, but it didn’t seem to lessen her appetite. When everyone was completely stuffed, they adjourned to the living room and Arthur sat down to distribute packages.

Given the coupleness of the gathering, there were bound to be "special gifts" hidden in the pile, and from time to time one of them would appear. Before they started, Ginny had taken Harry aside, to show him a gold chain around her neck which led to her ring, carefully concealed within the valley between her breasts. She grinned as she told him he was welcome to check its location at any time he wished.

Fleur opened a package from Bill and discovered a bejeweled pin for her hair, shaped as a large butterfly. Charlie found a three-volume compendium of Dragons in his box from Harry. Molly went to tears when she saw the complete magical cookware set that Hermione and Ron had found for her. It seemed like everyone had found books for Hermione, but Ron seemed to have scored well when he provided the latest version of _**Hogwarts, a History**_ …an edition that included Hermione Granger listed as Head Girl and Professor!

There was also another book in the package, and while everyone else was looking at the big one, Hermione quietly opened the little one. _One Hundred Ways to Ensnare Your Lover_ sounded like something she wanted to read, and without thinking she leaned over and kissed him, perhaps a little more passionately than one typically does in front of parents. Fortunately, no one seemed to notice…except Ron…and Harry…and Ginny.

Arthur picked up a little box and handed it to Ginny. She read the tag and immediately looked at Harry. It was covered with the same paper she had torn last night, and she didn’t know what to think _. What can this be? Did he get me something else? What did he do?_ She smiled, and tried to keep her emotions in check as she began to open it. Inside was a long, thin box, covered with the same velvet, with the same monogram on top. Very slowly she raised the lid, almost afraid to discover the contents.

She gasped, and everyone in the room waited to see what she had discovered. With tears starting to flow, she reached in and picked up the bracelet, a simply silver chain with many little figurines attached. Other than the obvious fact it was a bracelet, she had no idea what it was. Harry started to explain as he held it out for the others to see.

"This is a muggle charm bracelet. The bracelet starts out as a simple, plain chain, and each charm is a memory, a reminder of something special that happened to the owner." Hermione, of course, immediately understood. Harry laid it out in Ginny’s hand, and then began explaining the charms that were attached.

"This is a seven, entwined with the traditional symbol for a woman. You are the seventh child…and," he grinned, "a woman. This is the Hogwarts crest, where you went to school. This is a Lion, for when you were sorted to Gryffindor." He continued on, as Ginny’s cheeks glistened from her tears. She wasn’t the only one, for Molly was struggling to hold her composure also. "And this is a broom, to remind you of being selected for the Quidditch Team. This is the Quidditch Cup, which you won last year." Ginny had been following along, but now her eyes danced ahead. There was a ring! The last charm was a ring! "This is the Gryffindor crest with the letter P. It celebrates your being named a Prefect." Harry stopped, and no one but he and Ginny could see there was one more charm.

"There’s more room, so you can add more charms as your life continues." Ginny just turned to look at him, her eyes completely submerged. She grabbed at him, pulling herself into his arms and hanging on for dear life and for a moment they were alone, just the two of them. Hermione grabbed Ron’s hand and they shared the feelings from across the room. She looked at Ron. _If love makes Harry stronger then Voldemort doesn’t stand a chance._

Arthur moved on, handing out still more packages. Ron finally got the package that bothered him the most…the one from Harry. It was large…and, he discovered, squishy. He tore into the paper with a vengeance and discovered something completely unexpected. It was a complete set of Cannon’s Quidditch robes, with Weasley printed on the back. As always, the colour clashed wildly with his hair, but it didn’t matter. Even Hermione, the great non-Quidditch person, enjoyed watching him as he slipped on the cloak. She had to admit he looked good dressed like that. _Maybe…maybe some day…_

Arthur picked up a little box addressed to himself and began to unwrap it. Then Harry spoke up. "Mr. Weasley, I think it might be better if we went outside for this." Arthur was puzzled, as was everyone else in the room.

"Harry, I’m not sure…."

"I think you have to trust me on this, Mr. Weasley. It really will be better if we…well, if you take that outside. There could be serious problems if you open it in here." Arthur looked at Molly, whose face betrayed a trepidation she usually saved for Fred and George. With a nod, Arthur got up and started outside, with everyone else following him. He turned to look at Harry.

"Somewhere over there would probably be fine," Harry said, motioning towards the lane that led towards the town. Arthur moved off a few feet and then set the package down. "You can open it, but then just place it on the ground." Arthur picked it up again and removed the paper. Inside a small box he found a small child’s toy, which he examined at great length and then followed Harry’s instructions, placing it in the middle of the lane. Harry pointed his wand and spoke. " ** _Finite Incantatum!_** "

There was a rather loud bang, which caused everyone to jump, and a puff of smoke. When they looked back, there was a full size farm tractor sitting in the lane. Everyone, well everyone except Harry, just stared. Harry headed towards Molly, knowing he’d better confess quickly. Arthur approached the tractor, trying to determine exactly what it was and what he was supposed to do with it as Harry leaned in to whisper to Molly.

"Since Ron and I lost his car, I thought I should get him something else to play with. This is a muggle farm tractor, and he can use it around the yard here. And, since there’s only the one seat, Fred and George are not as likely to try and steal it." Molly just continued to stare, not knowing what to think. Arthur began to smile as he figured out what it was.

"It’s a farm tractor, Mr. Weasley. Since you have lots of land here, I thought you might like a tool to help you with it. And since Ron and I lost your car…." Arthur looked like a little boy with his first train set…or first bicycle…or first…. Fred and George though Harry had outdone himself and everyone else just started laughing. For the first time, Arthur had really received a great Christmas present.

Eventually, they made it back inside, but Arthur’s heart was still outside. He hugged Harry over and over, thanking him for the best present ever. Along the way, Harry explained that he wanted to share his newfound fortune with his friends and this was one way he could. They all told him no, but that didn’t stop their enjoyment of his generosity.

Arthur picked up another small package and started to hand it to Ginny, but Harry stopped him. "There’s another one of those somewhere," he said, looking around and then pointing towards a similar package on the far side of the tree. "Why don’t you set both of them together for a minute." Arthur set the first one down, and reached over to grab the second one. When they were sitting side by side, Harry pointed his wand again, and they both exploded into much bigger, longer packages. "That one goes to Ginny…and that one goes to Ron." Arthur stared…he’d been doing a lot of that this morning…and then complied with Harry’s directions.

Ginny looked at Harry yet again. _Another present? And so big! Nothing I know of comes in a package like this._ Ron took his package from his father, shaking it viciously but detecting nothing. For the first time, Hermione figured out what it had to be before it was unwrapped and she started grinning when she looked at Harry. They communicated without words, and Harry nodded. Ginny finally gave up thinking and started tearing at the wrapping. She got one end uncovered and stopped breathing when she read the printing on the box _. It can’t be! He couldn’t! IT CAN’T BE!_ But it was.

She opened the end of the box and began pulling it out. She could feel it start to come to life as she extracted more and more…a long wooden handle, but like no other handle in the world. Ron looked up at Ginny, recognized what she was seeing, and violently attacked his own package, throwing paper everywhere. Ginny reached the end and everyone in the room gasped with her. A Firebolt! A Firebolt with her name engraved on the handle, right next to the serial number. She turned to look at Harry, who was just smiling. _It feels so good to do this for my friends._

Ron had finally pulled his free, and Charlie grabbed the handle, looking at every inch of it while Ron just looked at Harry, transfixed! No one spoke. Finally, Ginny squealed and jumped into Harry’s arms again. It felt so good, so natural that Harry didn’t want to ever let her go. _Merlin, I love you Ginny. Do you know how good this makes me feel? Just holding you is…everything!_

Ron wanted to get up and hug Harry, but couldn’t make it through the piles of presents. He settled for hugging Hermione and they both continued to look at Harry with amazement. Again, it took a while for the group to return to the unopened packages. Both Ron and Ginny kept turning back, reaching to touch their brooms, as if to confirm they were real. _Firebolts!_ Never could they have imagined Firebolts.

Finally, when it was all over, they all got up and began to organize and clean up the room. Arthur came over to Harry and pulled him aside to talk.

"Harry, I don’t know what to say," he began, with tears welling in his eyes. "You have made this the best Christmas ever…for all of us." Harry shook his head.

"No, Mr. Weasley. _You_ have made this my best Christmas. You have allowed me to share the magic of a family. You have given me a place to be with my friends. You and your wife have treated me like my own parents would have. You have given me the chance to share with others. You have helped me feel love. I…" Harry didn’t know what more to say, and simply hugged Arthur. Molly saw what was happening and came over, patiently waiting her turn. In the end, everyone was hugging each other, and for a short time all the problems of the world were gone.

Much later, after everyone had tried the brooms, after Arthur had crashed into three difference trees with his new tractor, after the Quidditch game in the orchard, after everyone ate too much at dinner, after all of that, Harry and Ginny were holding hands and walking out in the garden when Molly called them over.

"Ginny, I know you wish to spend the rest of the holidays with Harry." Harry could feel Ginny tense a little bit as her mother spoke. "Harry, I know you want to have your friends stay with you until it’s time to return to school." Harry nodded, seeing no reason to deny it. Molly paused and reached out to hug Ginny. "If that is what you want to do, then your father and I…want you to go.


	31. The Hat From the Cat

Chapter 31 – The Hat From the Cat

Christmas night at Harry’s house was a little weird. All four residents were still bouncing from the excitement of the day. Ron actually tried to fly his broom around the house, until he hit the wall twice and realized that the speed was simply too great for inside practice. Hermione came to his rescue, first repairing his forehead and then repairing the wall. Ginny, however, only pointed out the scratch on the handle and told him he was stupid. Little sisters are like that!

For Ron, Hermione, and Ginny there was one big thing that had changed from their last visit: none of them made any pretense of sleeping in separate rooms. As soon as they arrived, Ginny took her trunk directly to Harry’s room and somewhere along the way said it was "their" room. For Ron and Hermione it wasn’t news.

The hyper-activity didn’t last for long. They were all tired and headed for bed rather early, pausing only for hugs in the hallway before heading off. In both rooms, the clothes ended up on the floor as the couples climbed into bed and into each other’s arms and that was that. 

On Boxing Day, the morning came late. In fact, it almost didn’t come at all. No one was in a rush to get out of bed, and there was nothing pressing on the agenda. Harry and Ginny just talked…about nothing and everything. Ginny talked about her ring, and her bracelet, and her broom, and Hogwarts. Harry listened. Living essentially alone, he missed social interaction more than anything else. While he could talk with Ginny using the mirrors, it wasn’t the same, and they seldom talked about the little stupid things that were part of her life, and the part of his life he missed most.

She told him about Neville and his adventures with the plants he was tending. She told him about Susan Bones and the curse that backfired in her Dark Arts class. She told him about Luna and her new earrings. All the little things…the things he missed the most. He couldn’t stop laughing when she described Hagrid losing control of the kneazles and the ensuing riot as they took over the girls locker room at the Quidditch stadium. In between her stories, they found time for some shagging, and Ginny made her first attempt at giving Harry oral sex. It didn’t work very well, but she immediately wanted to try it again, and Harry thought that was a great idea.

About noon, they finally got up, deciding that they were hungry and there were things they should be doing. As Harry worked on some sandwiches in the kitchen, Hermione showed up, fully clothed this time, and came over to hug him.

"Ron and I talked some this morning," she started, and Harry immediately grew wary.

"Oh?"

"Yep. We did."

"And what did you talk about?" Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but she was probably going to tell him regardless, so….

"We decided that we…well, we want you and Ginny to be Best Man and Maid of Honor at our wedding." Harry turned, his face suddenly frozen.

"You’re…you’re going to…?" Hermione grinned and nodded. "Wha…whe…when?"

"Oh, not real soon. Probably after the school term is over and we’ve graduated. We’re not in any rush, since we practically live together anyway." Harry nodded and set the knife down.

"Have you…you know…told anyone else?"

"I told Ginny a couple minutes ago…but that’s it. Ron reckons his mother probably already figured it out, but we haven’t told her yet."

"What about your parents?"

"I suspect they have their suspicions. After all, I told them I’d rather…well, I needed to be here and not with them, so…." Her voice trailed off, not wanting to really say she’d misled them. Harry walked over and pulled her into his arms.

"I’m very happy for you both, Hermione." He paused, and then considered things for a moment. "Should I take him out to buy a ring? I know a really good place." Now she grinned.

"So I’ve heard." It was clear she and Ginny had found a minute to share confidences. "Do her parents know, Harry?" He smiled.

"Do they know? Not officially. Do they suspect? Yeah, I’m sure they do. Molly as much as said so when she told me Ginny and Ron could come stay for the rest of the holidays." Then something else popped into Harry’s mind. "What happens if he goes on to play Quidditch?" Hermione laughed.

"Then it will be the shortest marriage on record." They both laughed and Hermione hugged Harry again. "Do you remember what I told you Christmas morning, Harry?" She was serious again, and Harry nodded. "I meant that, Harry. You are our best friend, and there is nothing that will ever come between us." Harry nodded, knowing what she meant. However, a little corner of his mind still remembered she was damn near naked when she said that before. _Does that count?_

Eventually, they all gathered in the War Room and the second council of war began. Harry started by bringing them up to date on what he knew…and what he suspected. As he related the information from Lucius, Ron and Hermione just gaped, not sure how to interpret what Harry was saying.

"So he didn’t know what the diary was, even though Voldemort gave it to him to keep?’

"That’s what he said. He knew it would open the Chamber of Secrets, but he didn’t know how. The interesting thing is that Voldemort knew it would. I mean, well, he knew there was a piece of his soul inside, and he had charmed it so it could communicate with somebody, but how did he know that’s what would happen? Did he somehow give the Horcrux some kind of instruction, or was he just assuming it would pick up where he was when he made the Horcrux in the first place?" They all just shook their heads. There was no way of knowing, and other than Voldemort, nobody to ask. In any case, as Harry pointed out, it wasn’t important any more. That Horcrux was gone.

He walked over to the wall and led them through what he knew about the remaining Horcruxes…the missing Horcruxes. "There’s Hufflepuff’s cup. We know it’s somewhere, and we know what it is, so that one is pretty straightforward. That leaves two, and I think Peter knows about at least one of them." He stepped through the whole conversation with Lucius again, pointing out what he said. Hermione interrupted.

"Harry, he said Voldemort said there was still a piece of himself at Hogwarts, right?" Harry nodded. "What exactly did he say?" Harry started to repeat it, and then decided to take a different approach. He picked up the pensieve in the corner and placed it in the middle of the table. Then he drew his wand and collected his memory of the interview to deposit in the bowl. When it was filled, he tapped his wand and the silver mist resolved into Harry and Lucius, sitting at the table in Azkaban.

" _Did Voldemort ever tell you about anything else he might have hidden away? Something that might insure his return if he were injured or hurt_?"

" _No. Twice I heard him say there was still a part of him at Hogwarts, but I always just assumed he meant he had special feeling for the school. He never said anything more_."

"See," Harry said, "it was nothing specific. But I don’t think Lucius knew what he meant. Since he didn’t know about the Horcruxes, he didn’t have any way to put any other meaning on Voldemort’s words."

"Harry, you said we are missing something from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, right?"

"That’s what Dumbledore said, but then he told me that the only known artifact from Gryffindor was the sword, and he’d checked that out." Hermione scrunched up her face.

"That’s not right, Harry. I _know_ there’s something else." Everyone looked at her, willing her to remember more. She got up and started pacing the room, searching her mind for the key…the hook that would allow her to recall her memory. Then she stopped. "It’s something in the book. I know that’s where I saw it." She ran from the room, returning quickly with her new copy of _Hogwarts, a History_. 

They all sat silently as she began paging though the volume, struggling because the pages weren’t as worn as her old copy. From time to time she would stop, reading almost silently to herself, trying to force the information to appear. She stopped, frowned, and then moved on, stopping at another page and reading some more. The clock continued to move, but none of them wanted to interrupt her. She was on a quest, and if she thought it was there it probably was. Finally, she stopped reading and looked up. Her expression was hard to decipher, but then she started reading aloud.

"After many disputes about placement of students within the houses, Rowena Ravenclaw suggested they create an impartial judge and allow it to make placements, based upon the criteria which they would supply. It was decided that they would need something that they could charm so that it could look into the student’s minds. After some experimentation, the found an appropriate charm and **Gryffindor supplied an old hat for use in sorting students**." She looked up. "The Sorting Hat came from Gryffindor!" Ron immediately responded.

"Hermione, it can’t be the Sorting Hat! Hundreds of people have worn that hat, and nobody’s been hurt or killed." Everyone nodded, and then Harry looked at Ginny and thought of something.

"Ron, being a Horcrux doesn’t mean it has to hurt somebody who touches it. Ginny had the diary. So did I. It didn’t hurt either of us to touch it. And I held the locket and it didn’t do anything. The injuries have come from the protective charms, not the soul itself." Hermione frowned a bit, and then nodded.

"But, how could it be the Sorting Hat? Wouldn’t it interfere with sorting?" They all pondered that for a moment. Finally Harry asked the obvious.

"Why would it? The Sorting Hat has a charm that allows it to do what it does. It can look into people’s minds and then decide which house they best fit in. That’s complex magic, but it doesn’t require anything special. It doesn’t even have to be a hat, it could be…well…anything. The Hat just makes it easier to reach a specific mind. I mean, well, it could be a…a…broom, but you’d have to hold it over somebody’s head. The fact that it’s a Hat just makes it easier."

"Harry, how could he have made the Sorting Hat into a Horcrux?" Ginny asked.

"It would be easy, Ginny. After his sixth year, he went home to the orphanage. He’d already made one Horcrux…the diary. Then during the summer, he traveled to Little Hangleton and found Morfin. He took Morfin’s wand and killed his father and grandparents. Then he came back, returned the wand, planted the memory of killing the Riddles and stole the ring. Using the killing of his father, he made the next Horcrux…the ring! 

Then, the day before he returns to Hogwarts, he kills Mrs. Cole. She was the woman who ran the orphanage. That would be another significant killing. The next morning, he hops on the train and returns to school with his soul torn again. At some point that night, he gets a minute with the Sorting Hat and he creates another Horcrux. It would be easy. And he’d have another Horcrux made out of something from one of the founders…Gryffindor." They all sat back, trying to find a hole in what Harry had just said.

After some silence, Harry spoke up again. "Riddle would have loved it. He made a Horcrux out of something from Gryffindor…and he did it right in front of Dumbledore, the head of Gryffindor House. And, it was sitting right in the office of the Headmaster the whole time. Merlin, how ironic!" Harry was getting worked up now, thinking they might have found one all by themselves, with no help from Dumbledore. Hermione interrupted his reverie.

"If you’re right, Harry, what do we do about it?" Harry gazed at the ceiling for a moment and then spoke.

"I need to talk with Dumbledore. If we’re right, then I need to kill it…like I did with the locket."

"Won’t that kill the Sorting Hat?"

"I don’t know. It might." He stopped and then smiled. "You know, if I have to chose between stopping Voldemort and saving the Sorting Hat…well, the Hat’s going to lose every time." They all laughed. He was right; it really wasn’t a question for debate.

"When do you want to do it?" Hermione asked. Harry thought about that for a moment and then looked at his watch.

"How about right now?" Ginny looked puzzled. "We can floo directly to McGonagall’s office, and Dumbledore will be there. Let’s do it while there’s nobody at the school." There was general agreement, and they headed for the fireplace.

 

Harry Potter exploded into the office of the Headmistress accompanied by a cloud of soot. Hermione, Ron, and Ginny followed immediately, and every portrait in the office woke up, taking note of the intruders.

"Good afternoon, Harry. What brings all of you to school during the holidays?" Harry pulled a chair over and sat down, looking directly at Dumbledore.

"Professor, we may have discovered another Horcrux, but we need your help." Dumbledore’s eyes began to sparkle, and the occupants of every other portrait focused on Harry.

"What have you found, Harry?"

"When we talked, you said that Voldemort would have liked to make a Horcrux out of something from each of the founders." Dumbledore nodded as Harry continued. "There was the locket from Slytherin, which is gone now. There’s the cup from Hufflepuff, which we haven’t found yet. That leaves Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, right?" Dumbledore nodded.

"That is correct, Harry. However, as I pointed out, the only known relic from Gryffindor is the sword." Harry shook his head.

"Professor, you’re forgetting the Sorting Hat. It originally belonged to Godric Gryffindor." Dumbledore looked dumbfounded and said nothing. "Professor, do you remember that Riddle killed Mrs. Cole the day before he returned for his seventh year. He could have returned and made the Horcrux here. He could have used the Sorting Hat!" Dumbledore still didn’t respond, but Harry didn’t think he needed to push any more. It was obvious that Albus Dumbledore had been shocked by their revelation. Could the Horcrux have been sitting behind his desk all these years?

"Harry, I don’t know what to tell you. I am disappointed that I did not think of that myself." He looked away for a moment and then looked back. "May I ask how you figured this out?" Harry nodded.

"It was Hermione, Professor. When I told her you thought the only Gryffindor artifact was the sword she just kept saying it wasn’t, that there was something else. We were sitting around today, talking about where we are, and when we got to this, she went to her book….the history of Hogwarts and found it." Behind him, Hermione was mouthing _Hogwarts, a History_ but Ginny poked her in the side and whispered to her to shut up!

Dumbledore looked over Harry’s shoulder and smiled. "Miss Granger, you never cease to amaze me. Minerva has been telling me about your teaching, and now this. I think a Special Award for Service to the School is in order." There were cheers from several of the other portraits, and Hermione turned bright red.

"Well, Harry, I guess we need to test your theory. Why don’t you get down the hat and we’ll see what we can discover, shall we?" Harry nodded and got up to retrieve the hat. Ginny had seen this before, and moved the chair, replacing it with the stool that the Hat normally occupied. When Harry placed the Hat on the stool, it spoke up.

"Potter, you’ve returned. Are you allowed at school this year?" Harry was a little disconcerted. He was quite prepared to kill the piece of Voldemort’s soul, but the Sorting Hat seemed somehow alive, and completely innocent. Was he going to kill it too? Harry ignored the Hat and looked at Dumbledore.

"Professor, will the charm that makes the Hat do the sorting register as life?" Dumbledore shook his head.

"No, Harry, it will not. The Charm is not alive, nor is the hat itself." Harry nodded and pulled out his wand.

" ** _Revelare Vita!_**!" The tip of the Hat glowed bright purple for a moment, and then returned to normal. Harry looked at Dumbledore.

"Amazing, Harry. It is so ironic that Lord Voldemort was able to create a Horcrux right in front of all of us, with an object we see every day. I’m certain that he delighted in making it, for it clearly showed his ability to hoodwink the great Dumbledore." Albus was almost laughing as he spoke the words, and all four of them understood he was quietly acknowledging he did not know everything, not that he’d ever claimed he did.

"Well, Harry. I think you know what to do." Harry nodded and grasped his wand a little tighter. Ginny pushed Ron and Hermione back away, having seen the power of Harry’s wand before. Harry started to move his wand, and then stopped. He turned and walked over to Ginny and kissed her. He started to walk back, and then stopped yet again. Without thinking, he turned and walked to Hermione, pulling her tight into his arms and kissing her cheek.

"Thank you, Hermione," he whispered and turned back to face the Hat. Raising his wand high over his head, he thought of his parents once again and brought his wand down. " ** _Avada Kedavra!_** " The entire room was bathed in green as the spell exploded from his wand with a deafening roar, crashing into the hat and knocking it off the stool. It flew across the room, knocking over a chair before coming to rest on the floor in the corner. Both Hermione and Ron screamed. Like Ginny before, they had never seen a wand display that kind of power.

Harry put his hand down and walked across the room, recovering the Hat and placing it back on the stool. " ** _Revelare Vita!_**!" Nothing happened. Harry looked at Dumbledore.

"I believe you have destroyed another Horcrux, Harry. My compliments to all of you." Hermione was starting to come back to life, Ginny was smiling, but Ron just continued to stare, his mind still processing the power he had just witnessed.

"Professor, did I destroy the Sorting Hat too?" Dumbledore smiled.

"I do not know, Harry. Why don’t you put it on and find out." Harry’s eyes went wide as he considered what Dumbledore had suggested. _Well, there are others here if this goes wrong so…why not?_ Harry gingerly picked up the hat and put it on, waiting for something to happen. At first, nothing did, and then the Hat spoke.

"I stand by what I said years ago Potter. You would have done well in Slytherin." Harry just grinned and pulled the Hat off.

"You’re wrong. _I am a Gryffindor_ , just as you once were. I’m disappointed you still don’t recognize that." Harry started laughing and put the Sorting Hat back on the shelf. He started to turn back, and then faced the Hat one more time. "By the way, my friends said your song this year was particularly good. I’m sorry I missed it." The Hat did not speak, but simply folded it’s top and went back to sleep.

Harry nodded to Dumbledore and prepared to leave, putting things back as they had been. He headed to the fireplace but Ginny held back. She was looking at Dumbledore, and he was motioning with his finger for her to come over. She knelt down and Dumbledore whispered.

"Is there something you wish to tell me, Ginny?" Her eyes went wide, and then she smiled. She reached up and pulled up the chain around her neck until the ring appeared. Dumbledore smiled. "I thought so. Did you notice the difference in Harry’s spell?" Ginny nodded. Last time it had been powerful, but this time it virtually exploded. "He is stronger because of all of you. Voldemort cannot defeat him when he is like this." Ginny nodded again and Dumbledore winked, his eyes sparkling again.

"What did he want, Ginny?" She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

"He wanted me to kiss you." Harry looked puzzled as she climbed into the fireplace. "Voldemort’s Dungeon!" she said and disappeared.


	32. A Memory Considered

Chapter 32 – A Memory Considered

The next few days, the days before the New Year, flew by far too quickly. The two couples often left the house, venturing into London for trips that Ron and Ginny had never made before. Harry reasoned that Voldemort would not search for them amongst the muggles, so they enjoyed the side of London only Hermione had ever really seen. They went to the zoo, but the creatures seemed rather tame compared to what Hagrid regularly provided. They went shopping. And then Hermione took them to a muggle theatre and Ron and Ginny saw their first movie: Titanic.

Somewhere in the middle, Harry, who already had his arm around Ginny, pulled her close and whispered in her ear. "See, he’s falling in love with a beautiful red-haired girl…just like me." Ginny grinned and kissed his cheek. From time to time he shared some other comments as the story moved along, especially during the portrait scene.

When they left the theatre, they were two separate couples. Ron wanted to talk about the story and kept asking Hermione why they didn’t just go down and fix the leak. "A simple spell would have repaired everything. That was stupid!" Hermione couldn’t seem to make him understand that muggles didn’t have those options. "Well, there must have been something they could do. That was so stupid." Hermione just gave up in exasperation.

Walking behind them, Harry held a very somber Ginny. She had been crying, because the movie ending was sad, but Harry sensed there was something else troubling her. Finally they stopped for a moment, and he looked into her eyes. "What is it, Ginny?" She looked back, and Harry sensed a frightened little girl facing him. 

"Harry, I’m…so scared. Is…is that what’s going to happen to us? Are you going to die and leave me in the end?" Harry immediately understood and wrapped his arms around her.

"Ginny, when the final scene is over, I’ll still be here. I promise. There isn’t an iceberg big enough to take me away from you." He kissed her cheek and then moved on to her lips. She was starting to respond when Ron yelled.

"Hey, the traffic is stopped. We can walk now!" Hermione poked him, but it was too late.

"Git," she muttered.

 

On Tuesday afternoon, Harry was sitting on the couch in the drawing room reading when Hermione walked in. Ron and Ginny had gone off somewhere and they had the house to themselves. Hermione sat down and put a bowl of snacks on the table.

"What are you reading Harry?" He looked up and she saw his eyes for the first time. They were red and rimmed with tears. It was obvious he had been crying for a bit. Hermione suddenly wished she was anywhere but where she was.

"It’s…my mother’s diary. Aunt Petunia gave it to me when we were there…with the dementors." Hermione nodded, not really certain how to respond. Sympathy seemed in order, but she had no idea how he felt about the book. _Are they good memories? Does he like knowing more about his parents? Or is the knowledge upsetting? Does it just make him miss them even more?_ She smiled, but didn’t know what to say.

"She’s talking about being pregnant and how happy it makes her. And my dad too. And the crazy stuff that Sirius is doing."

"I’m sure it was a very wonderful time for them." she replied, trying hard to lighten the mood a little. He nodded, but then turned serious again.

"She’s worried, though. Voldemort is always out there. Dumbledore has told them they are in danger, and she’s talking about what they can do to protect themselves. They’ve decided Sirius is going to be the secret Keeper." Hermione immediately knew what Harry’s feelings were about. It was bad enough to know the treachery that happened, but far worse to hear about it from a victim, and someone who didn’t know what was about to happen. She scooted towards him, and put her arm around his shoulder. He turned a little and leaned into her as he continued reading. He desperately wanted to know, yet found the knowledge upsetting. Even though he knew how it ended, he couldn’t stop reading.

A couple hours later, Ginny and Ron returned. After looking around, they found Harry and Hermione on the couch, her arms wrapped around him as they both slept peacefully. Ginny silenced Ron and then tiptoed into the room and picked up the book that had fallen to the floor. When she recognized what it was, she set it down and tiptoed back out, leaving them to sleep. In the hallway, she told Ron and they both went to their rooms. What their friends needed most was exactly what they were getting…quiet and peaceful sleep.

 

On New Years Eve day, the January issue of The Quibbler came out, and this time Luna’s father took no chances. He printed even more copies…and still ran out! There seemed to be no end to the public appetite for the information Rita was providing. The cover featured a dark graveyard with shadowy figures moving about.

**The Dark Lord Reborn**

Inside, the story went to the heart of the current situation…how did the Dark Lord return. Much of this information was old, having been included in Harry’s interview two years ago. But the article included a few new tidbits, and also continued the series.

****

The Dark Lord – Back From the Dead

****

He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had disappeared, but a few of his faithful Death Eaters were working to bring him back writes Rita Skeeter. Foremost amongst those was Peter Pettigrew, a small rat-like man who secretly held the key to the Dark Lord’s return. In an organization of society’s worst, Pettigrew sank even lower than the rest.

Pettigrew is an Animagus, capable of transforming himself into a rat. Given his double dealing, it isn’t much of a change. He first came to the attention of the Dark Lord when he provided the location of Harry Potter’s home, though he had been a spy in his employ for some time before that. His information led directly to the deaths of James and Lily Potter and, ironically, the near-demise of the Dark Lord himself.

The day after the Potters died, Sirius Black, who had discovered the truth about their deaths, confronted him. In order to escape from Black, Pettigrew killed 13 muggles and then transformed during the ensuing confusion. Black was discovered still at the scene, presumed guilty for the deaths without benefit of trial, and sent directly to Azkaban. As a result of Pettigrew’s treachery, the innocent Black spent over 12 years in Azkaban.

When he was free again, Black located Pettigrew who had been hiding out as a pet rat with a magical family. During the confrontation, the cowardly Severus Snape intervened and Pettigrew ran free. Snape, who’s double dealing was exceeded only by Pettigrew, claimed he was trying to recapture an escapee (Black) when in fact he was simply lying to cover his helping Pettigrew escape justice again. Pettigrew, having been exposed, then ran off to find the Dark Lord.

(continued – page 4)

As the article continued, Rita wove together a few new items and some of her interview with Harry from two years before. Elsewhere, Luna’s father reprinted the entire earlier interview, subtly pointing out that _The Quibbler_ had the entire story…the true story…long before the _Daily Prophet_ even acknowledged the Dark Lord had returned.

Hermione set the paper down and looked at Harry. "Do you think this is working, Harry?" He shrugged.

"I don’t know. It can’t hurt. If you’re Voldemort, you have to wonder a little about where she’s getting the information. I’m sure Snape has told him that it’s me, but that doesn’t matter." He pointed at the wall, at one of the phrases he had written: **In war, practice dissimulation, and you will succeed.** ****

"That’s why I’m doing it. Maybe, just maybe, I can drive him into doing something rash or ill-considered. That…and I just have this feeling that Voldemort…or Snape…or whoever…will be a little more distracted or upset when we meet. There would be nothing better than to face a mad Voldemort. If he’s mad, then he won’t be thinking as clearly, and that’s a plus." He paused and grinned. "The next two should really upset him. They’re about the prophecy and the Horcruxes." 

****That’s why I’m doing it. Maybe, just maybe, I can drive him into doing something rash or ill-considered. That…and I just have this feeling that Voldemort…or Snape…or whoever…will be a little more distracted or upset when we meet. There would be nothing better than to face a mad Voldemort. If he’s mad, then he won’t be thinking as clearly, and that’s a plus." He paused and grinned. "The next two should really upset him. They’re about the prophecy and the Horcruxes."

Hermione nodded and looked at the other things on the wall. In her picture, she was busy snogging with Ron and the real Hermione looked away, somehow embarrassed to see what the picture was up to. Ginny came in, kissed Harry, and then sat down to read. Hermione started prowling the bookcases, looking for something to occupy her mind. After finding nothing appealing, she went downstairs and started thinking about dinner.

Ginny stopped reading for a bit and looked around the room. As she looked at the pictures, an idea came to her.

"Harry, do you think Voldemort knows you’re killing the Horcruxes?" 

"I don’t know, Ginny. At one time, I thought he might feel it when one is killed or defeated, but now I don’t think so."

"Why not?" Harry looked up, and then put down the book he was reading.

"Well, I’ve thought about all the things I’ve heard. Dumbledore said that Voldemort was really upset when he found out about the diary. So, that would mean he didn’t know about it beforehand. And Lucius said he got really mad when he told him what happened. So, I think he didn’t know. Now, if he didn’t know, that must mean he couldn’t feel it…when they are…killed."

"But…wasn’t Voldemort gone when the diary…well, you know." Ginny was still uncomfortable talking about the diary, feeling some lingering guilt for what happened.

"Well, he wasn’t…he didn’t have a body. But he was somewhere. Barty Crouch said he was in Albania, and I guess that’s where Peter went to find him. But if the pieces of his soul are linked, he should have known. He…er, well ‘they’ might not know exactly ‘what’ happened, but they would know one was gone, right?" Ginny nodded, not certain she understood. But what Harry said made sense.

"So, what happens if he finds out what you’ve been doing?" Harry thought about that for a minute.

"Well, first I expect he’d be mad…real mad. I mean, well, he put a lot of effort into making them, and he thinks they provide him with immortality…so he’ll be real mad. Then I expect he’d send people to check things out…or even go himself. He knows the diary is gone, but…. If it were me, I’d check out the cave, and the ring, and wherever the cup is. He can’t very well check out the Sorting Hat, but he might try. If Snape was still at school, I’ll bet he’d be doing that."

"Did Snape know what Dumbledore was doing…what he’d found." Harry thought about that for a minute, mentally reviewing what he knew again.

"I don’t know, Ginny. That’s a really tough question. Dumbledore went to Snape after the ring damaged his hand, but I have no idea if he told Snape all of the story. The way I see it, it wasn’t the Horcrux that damaged his hand, it was the protective curse, so Dumbledore didn’t need to tell him about the Horcrux at all. And if Snape saw the ring, it might not have meant anything to him. I mean, nobody would have thought the ring was all that special."

"Why not?" She thought maybe Harry didn’t like talking about these things, but he smiled.

"Well, here’s what I think. The ring was actually pretty ugly. Just a gold band with a broken black stone mounted in it. It wasn’t…it didn’t belong to Slytherin himself, so there wasn’t any special mark on it. Marvolo said it had the Peverell arms on it but I didn’t see it. So, if Dumbledore showed the ring to Snape, it probably wouldn’t have meant anything. Snape was only dealing with the curse, and maybe Dumbledore didn’t even show him the ring. In any case, I’m assuming that Snape didn’t know what it actually was." Ginny pondered that for a moment and then changed direction.

"Harry, how do you activate a Horcrux? Do you have to do something, or does it just do it…you know, automatically?"

"From what I’ve found, there is a spell or charm that causes it to free itself. Like I said, Voldemort didn’t know about the diary, so I don’t think the Horcrux knows if another piece of the soul has been killed or whatever. And then how would one Horcrux know what to do? It’s not like they can all get together and talk it over…you know, decide which one will become active again. I think somebody else must know about it and do something." Ginny frowned. Something didn’t add up, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it

"Did Voldemort die when he tried to kill you?" Harry looked up again. He had always assumed that he didn’t, but he’d never really considered the question.

"What do you mean, Ginny?"

"Well, if he died, if he was really dead, then somebody had to activate a Horcrux for him to return, right?" Harry nodded. "So…say he died. Somebody had to know that. Somebody had to find out and then do something. That means they had to know where a Horcrux was hidden, and know how to get it, and then activate it." Harry was listening carefully, thinking about every word she said.

"So, Voldemort dies. Somebody finds out, recovers a Horcrux, and activates it. That means there’s a new Voldemort, but he doesn’t have a body, right? So the next time we saw him, he was in Albania where Peter found him." Harry shook his head.

"No. You’re forgetting that he possessed Quirrell."

"Okay, but Quirrell found him in Albania, right?" Harry tried to remember if he knew for sure. That sounded right. _Didn’t Quirrell go to Albania for the summer? No. Hagrid said he took a year off and went there…to study…something. Vampires? I think it was vampires._

"I think that’s what happened. Yeah, Voldemort said that when he came back. He told the Death Eaters that he discovered Quirrell and returned. But he didn’t possess him right away. That came later, after Quirrell failed to get the Philosopher’s Stone at Gringotts." Harry’s mind was racing now, trying to remember all the little pieces and see if they fit together to make something.

"So, one of the Voldemorts went to Albania, but we don’t know which one. It could have been the original, if he wasn’t killed. Or it could have been one of the Horcruxes, if he was killed and a Death Eater activated it. Right?" That all made sense to Harry and he nodded, thinking that there was something more.

Ginny stared at him…an odd expression he’d never seen before. It was rather unnerving actually.

"What?"

"Harry, do you have any memory of that night? The night when…."

"I…I don’t know, Ginny. I’ve tried to remember it, but I’ve never been able to. I was only one when it happened." She nodded.

"I just mean…well…if you remembered what happened…we…well, we might see…if he died or not." She was trembling a bit, knowing that she was asking Harry to revisit the worst day of his entire life. Harry thought about it for a minute. _Do I know what happened? Do I have any memory of my own? Everything I know came from somebody else. But I was there. I remembered a green flash, and that was before I knew what the killing curse looked like, so I must remember something. How much?_

Ginny got up and walked over to stand behind his chair, draping her arms around him. "Harry, I know it would be very painful, but it might tell us something. If Voldemort died that night, then there’s one less Horcrux to look for." He nodded as he thought about her words. _Do I want to look back at that? Is there anything there? What will I see? Do I want to know? Is it worth it? Will I see my mother die? Can I handle that?_ Ginny could sense his discomfort.

"Don’t decide now, Harry. It’s not that important yet. Just…just think about it." She kissed the top of his head and ran her hands down onto his chest. Slowly he reached to her wrists and pulled her arms around his neck, feeling her breasts cradle the back of his head. _Ginny’s here. It would be okay. She would help me. It would be okay._ After several silent minutes, he picked up his wand and pointed at the blank sheet that represented the sixth Horcrux. He swung his wand and a big question mark appeared. _Maybe that one doesn’t exist anymore._


	33. Greeting a New Year

Chapter 33 – Greeting a New Year

The Dark Lord was not pleased, and no New Year celebration was going to change that. When the Death Eaters gathered, he gave vent to his feelings.

"The end of another year and my faithful followers have joined me again. It is indeed my birthday…my original birthday…yet we have little to celebrate. Yes, it is true that Dumbledore is gone, but we are no closer to the final steps than we were a year ago!" The entire circle shuddered a bit, knowing his wrath was coming.

"I sense laziness! I sense sloth! There are holes in our circle…the result of bungling! I am not pleased!" Beneath every black hood there were feelings of dread. _What have I failed to do? What will he say about me?_ The Dark Lord began to pace, and then moved from the center to the rim, closer to his followers in the circle, his red eyes flaming as he looked at each of them in turn.

"Goyle! Crabbe! Why have the giants not been more active?" Goyle immediately fell to his knees.

"My Lord, we have…."

"SILENCE! I know what you have done. Do not count your son as a recruit. He was always mine!" He moved on, looking at Goyle with utter contempt. Then he turned at looked at the next man in the circle, a small man with a silver hand.

"Ah. Here we have Peter Pettigrew. Our new celebrity." He raised a copy of The Quibbler and waved it in the air, laughing as he looked around. "Everyone…meet Peter Pettigrew, the man who saved Lord Voldemort!" He looked back at Peter who was noticeably shaking. "I didn’t know you were so famous, Peter. Why didn’t you tell me? Here I thought I was in charge, but it was actually you." Voldemort’s face slowly contorted into a frightening sneer. " ** _Crucio!_** " Pettigrew screamed and rolled on the ground, his limbs thrashing about until the Dark Lord raised his wand.

"It is true that Peter took the steps necessary to aid my return. It is also true that he waited many years before stepping up to the task…years that were WASTED! **_Crucio!_** " Peter again screamed, and Voldemort held his wand even longer, enjoying the punishment he was generating. Then he moved on, leaving Peter gasping on the ground.

"And now we come to you…Severus." Snape seldom displayed fear. Insolence, indifference, even arrogance…those were the hallmarks of the former Potions Master. But never fear. Now, however, Snape was just another Death Eater, as Bellatrix frequently pointed out. In front of the Dark Lord, in front of his peers, he was no longer special. The time had passed when he had secrets he could deliver and his bargaining power had diminished significantly.

"I have asked you for two things…and I still have neither." He stopped and looked around the circle, now speaking to everyone. "How difficult can it be to find one little boy? Every time I want to deal with Potter I am thwarted. So I ask myself why?" There was no sound but the rustling of the wind in the treetops. "Very well, I will answer myself. I am thwarted because none of you seem to understand my request. I am thwarted by INCOMPETENCE!"

He turned and looked skyward…towards a crescent moon. "How hard can it be?" he said quietly, almost as if it were a friendly conversation. "I went to deal with him when he was yet a child. But I failed…because someone provided incomplete information. What should have been easy became impossible. WHY!" he yelled. "I am told over and over that Potter is a wizard of no extraordinary skills. His mother was a mudblood! And yet he lives." Voldemort turned back to face Snape.

"I WANT HIM FOUND! I WANT HIM IN FRONT OF ME! I AM TIRED OF PLAYING THESE GAMES!" He stopped. His face changed abruptly from anger to sweetness, and his voice dripped with sarcasm and irony. "Now, is that in any way unclear, Severus?"

Severus shook his head. "I didn’t hear you, Severus. I asked you a question."

"No, my Lord. Your desires are not unclear."

"Good. GOOD! Because I will NOT tolerate further failures!" Voldemort stared at Snape, their minds fighting an unseen battle. Snape refused to be cowed, and Voldemort refused to back down. He would show Snape who was in charge.

"Bellatrix, you will see that Snape and Malfoy find the information I seek." Bellatrix nodded, her face contorting into a sadistic grin. She would succeed where Snape had failed. Potter would become her glory, not his! She looked to her side and smiled sweetly at Draco. He would understand the power she held soon enough.

 

Miles away, another gathering was celebrating the New Year in a more festive way. Harry had secretly recruited Dobby to help him in the kitchen, and between them they prepared a feast to rival anything ever seen at Hogwarts. As Harry seated everyone at the table, Dobby appeared in a tuxedo and tails, carrying a chilled bottle of champagne. Hermione almost fell on the floor laughing as a very serious Dobby popped the cork and poured a glass for everyone. Harry just grinned as Ginny spilled half her glass on her robes while watching the elf place the bottle in the ice bucket and depart, smiling and bowing as he left the room.

"Harry, what was that about?" Hermione asked, trying to control her giggles.

"Hey, this is a class place. First class food, first class service, first class friends." They all smiled and then Harry raised his glass. "A toast." They all turned to Harry, the fun gone for a moment.

"To my friends, a wonderful year. To my wife-to-be, my love every day. To our world, peace at last!" The glasses chinked together and everyone took a sip. If only time could stand still…and it could be right now forever.

After a great meal, several hours of games, and more champagne, midnight finally arrived. Harry filled their glasses again, and they gathered in front of the fireplace. As the clock began to toll, Harry raised his glass. "To friendship." They touched their glasses together and then drank. As Harry counted to three, they tossed the glasses into the fireplace and then paired off, snogging far more seriously than they had all evening. After a moment, the two couples departed for their rooms…and more private celebrations.

 

"Harry," Ginny said, snuggling deeper into his arms. "Can I try it again?" Harry just grinned and nodded. She seemed so serious about it, like it was a particularly troublesome spell she just couldn’t master. To Harry, it wasn’t important, though he’d be the first to agree it provided sensations unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

Ginny pushed down the comforter and exposed Harry erection. Gently she wrapped her fingers around it and moved her mouth closer. Like most young girls, she was amazed at the power she could sense within her hand. She reached out with her tongue and tentatively licked a little, immediately drawing a moan from Harry. She moved her tongue around, teasing the nerves which surrounded the head. Harry tried to think of anything else, wishing he could enjoy her touch for hours.

Ginny moved down a little more and moved her lips to the tip and then pushed down, allowing her mouth to open as she pushed him inside. Harry arched a little, wanting to go even deeper into the soft, wet recesses of her mouth. She opened wider to accommodate him, and involuntarily he pushed again. Unknown to Harry, she’d been practicing, and it showed. She took a deep breath, and the pushed down, taking him deeper yet.

The two of them began to thrust together, Ginny timing her breathing to the moments when it was possible. Harry was losing control, his rhythmic motions dictated by primal reflexes that he could not control. Ginny just worked to take him deeper and deeper. Eventually she moved to a different position, enabling her to tip her head differently. On the next thrust, she pushed against him, and he slid around the corner and into her throat. She could feel her muscles reacting, her gag reflex fighting with her desires.

She willed her brain to resist the automatic response, and then allowed him to push deep again. It was slightly easier this time, and with each subsequent plunge, she felt more in control. Harry, on the other hand, was losing control. Ginny was providing sensations he could not being to imagine. Even in his most vivid dreams he had never felt even a small portion of what she was providing now. His thrusts became violent as he neared the end.

Ginny tried to decide what to do. She knew he was responding to her actions, but she wanted to taste him. In the end, she decided to keep up the pace, but pull back a little, and it worked. With a loud explosion of breath…a gasp of passion…Harry spurted into her mouth. She retreated and advanced again, and he pulsed again. Over and over she repeated the steps, milking him of everything he had.

When he was spent, she slowly backed away, kissing and licking him as his heart slowed towards a more normal pace. She had done it, and it was every bit as rewarding and she’d hoped. He could set aside his own pleasure for her, and now she could do the same. _That’s what love is_ , _I think…giving yourself to someone else._ She nestled back into his arms, knowing this would be her real home for the rest of her life.


	34. Neville and His Nemesis

Chapter 34 – Neville and His Nemesis

Upon their return to Hogwarts, Ginny, Hermione, and Ron all went to McGonagall’s office to explain what had happened there over the holidays. As it turned out, she already knew, courtesy of Dumbledore’s portrait. Given the outcome, she wasn’t the slightest bit upset, and told Hermione that she was in fact preparing a Special Award for her. While they were there, McGonagall also mentioned that several additional students had returned to school, their parents evidently deciding that the school was now safe enough for their children to attend.

At the feast, McGonagall rose to address the students. "I am happy to welcome you all back to another term. As you can see, several of your former classmates have now been able to rejoin us, and I trust everyone will make them feel welcome." There were a few murmurs as people looked around to see who else had returned. "The rules which were put in place at the beginning of this year will continue. It is important that we maintain our vigilance to prevent any problems. If you have questions, feel free to speak with any Prefect, the Head Boy or Head Girl, or any member of the faculty." With that she dismissed them, and the students returned to their houses. Over the next couple of days, the students settled back into the routine and the school year marched on.

 

Severus Snape was not happy for he did not want to be where he was. He did not want the mission he had been given. Worst of all, he could not see any way out of it. For a man who took great offense when Harry Potter called him a coward, it was probably an apt description at the moment. For the first time in a long time, Severus Snape was uncomfortable as he made his way towards Hogwarts.

Given the now-public knowledge of his involvement with the Dark Lord, he was a marked man. Given his years spent teaching at Hogwarts, there were far too many people who knew him on sight. Draco had suggested that he cut his hair short, but Severus would have none of that. As intelligent as he was, Severus could not overcome his obsessions about his appearance, even if they put him at risk. There were, as he saw it, some things that you just didn’t compromise on.

He was thinking about all these things as he made his way into the Shrieking Shack and began his journey to Hogwarts. The tunnel was dark and dank and since it was seldom used, many families of spiders had taken up residence. Quite a number of bats also called it home, and as a result, there was a continuous flow and scurry of animals overhead as he walked along, using his wand for illumination. He had been here a few months ago, probing the defenses of the castle, but this time was different. This time he would have to breach those defenses if he were to accomplish his assignment.

At the final turn, he stopped and gently put out his hand. A few feet away he found the shield, unyielding yet invisible. He wasn’t certain what Charm had been used to create it, so disabling it was a challenge. He began with the obvious.

" ** _Finite Incantatem!_** " The general-purpose spell ender had no effect. " ** _Reducto!_** " The spell traveled straight through the space, having no effect on a non-solid object. Snape paused, and then tried several other spells. Nothing seemed to have any effect. Then he considered a Peeling Spell. Perhaps he could separate the shield from the wall and sneak around it. " ** _Pilare!_** " he said, aiming carefully at the point where the shield joined the wall. The spell seemed to strike something and then flared for a moment.

Snape reached out and worked his fingers around the edge of the shield, slowly separating it from the wall and forcing an opening. It was hard work, but he eventually pried it loose along the entire wall and rolled it back enough to inch around it. Now, however, he had two new problems. First, he assumed that some sort of alarm had been triggered, so he had a limited amount of time to exit the tunnel and hide somewhere. Second, he probably couldn’t return this way, since the tunnel would likely be guarded. It didn’t matter; he needed to move on.

At the top of the tunnel, he slowly raised his head and searched the grounds. There was no one in the immediate area, and he climbed out and ran until he was out of range of the whomping willow. The tree was moving restlessly, but did not rise to attack him. He slowly made his way to the greenhouses, using every bit of cover he could find. It was still early in the night and the absence of moonlight made it easier. " _So far, so good_ " he thought as he considered where to go next.

The nearest entrance to the castle was at the base of the South Tower, but that connected with lots of hallways, and last year one of the Aurors had lived in an apartment next to the door, so that didn’t seem a wise place to begin his penetration. The next best would be the door that led down to the old dungeons. But there were no easy passages from there into the castle, and the long corridor would be a likely place to encounter a house elf headed to one of the house common rooms.

Finally, he decided he would head for the Quidditch pitch and filch a broom from the storage shed. He could fly up to the North Tower and then work his way down. That would be easier…and there were many more concealed passages to use along the way. He headed off through the darkness, surprised that no one had yet responded to his entry.

Opening the shed was simple enough, and he laughed silently when he found a Firebolt with Ron Weasley’s name engraved on the handle _. How ironic! I’m going to fly Ron Weasley’s broom to go search Ron Weasley’s brain._ He closed the door, stepped away from the building, and pushed off into the sky. It was a big surprise when the broom ran into a solid wall, floating some distance away from the tower battlements. He was barely able to regain control of the broom before he fell off, and circled to consider what to do now. There was evidently a shield in place that prevented entering the castle by flying. _Well, I guess it’s back to the ground._

Given no other options, he slowly made his way inside, hiding behind paintings where possible and darting from shadow to shadow. There were students still moving here and there, but he gathered that curfew was coming soon based upon their conversations. He pulled back a large painting and slipped into the staircase concealed behind it, climbing silently towards the second floor. At the landing, he stopped, listening for any sign of movement before exposing himself in the corridor. Hearing nothing, he moved on, slipping behind a suit of armor as a couple of small Hufflepuffs ran by. They were late, and focused only on getting back before their common room was sealed for the night.

He finally arrived at his destination, a small storage cupboard just outside the door to the Head Boy’s room. It was as near as he could get without a confrontation. Face to face would have been far better, but this would have to do. Snape quietly moved some things and put his ear to the wall. He could hear Ron and Hermione talking, but the conversation was muffled and indistinct. Slowly he began to focus his mind, willing his senses to reach out and grab the mind in the next room. It was more difficult since there were two people in the room, and he couldn’t see where they were.

"So Remus said I should continue working with it," Hermione said. "He’s really interested in what I’ve found so far, and he wants me to…." She stopped talking and watched Ron for a minute. "Do you feel that, Ron?" He nodded, without speaking. "It feels like…almost like an Imperious Curse." Ron nodded again, but still didn’t speak. Hermione began to look around, wondering what was happening. Then Ron started speaking again.

"Hermione, it reminds me of something Harry said. Remember when he was…when he had those special lessons with Snape?" Hermione nodded. "He said Snape would try to attack his mind, and he could feel him…like he was moving his hands through his mind." That was exactly what it felt like to her, and she began to consider what might be happening.

"Ron, do you think somebody’s here, somebody’s trying to attack our minds?" Ron nodded, but he didn’t really know. "If they are, they’ve got to be real close. Harry said Snape told him distance matters." She picked up her wand and started towards the door.

"Hermione, should we go out there? What if there is somebody there?" She picked up his wand from his desk and handed it to him.

"Come on, Ron. We need to find out what’s happening." Quietly, they opened her door a crack and looked out. There was nothing to see and they slipped out into the corridor. Looking around, they still saw nothing. Snape was aware they had moved, but missed the signs they had left the room. He moved back to the wall, but heard nothing. Since he was having trouble finding Ron, he decided to step back out into the corridor and try working through the door instead, tacitly accepting the risk that went with it. The cupboard door opened the wrong way, and Hermione and Ron could see it move before he could see them. They raised their wands and waited.

Snape eased his way out and then turned, finding two wands raised and pointed directly at him. No one spoke for a moment as everyone was equally surprised. Snape recovered first.

"Well well. Granger and Weasley together." Ron reacted first.

" ** _Impedimenta!_** " Snape easily countered the spell without speaking.

"Still haven’t learned, have you Weasley?" He leered and then looked at Hermione. "What! Nothing to say, Miss Granger? Can’t do anything without Potter?" Hermione moved her wand and sent a streak of flame flying at him, but he conjured a shield charm again, and it ricocheted, burning a hole in the cupboard door.

"That’s better, Miss Granger. But no where near good enough." Snape just sneered, feeling he clearly had the upper hand. Hermione began to move laterally, very slowly edging away from Ron. With three wands pointed, no one seemed to be ready for any drastic action, but the standoff couldn’t last forever, and Snape knew he had to force the situation or be the loser. Ron decided to speak.

"What do you want, Snape!" He was being deliberately disrespectful, trying to draw a response.

"Something you might have stored in that thing you call your brain," he sneered.

"What! _I_ have something _you_ need? Isn’t that ironic." Hermione was now a few feet away from Ron, and she stopped where she was. She had successfully divided his attention, and Snape would be forced to make a choice between them. Now she waited for Ron. Snape said nothing, but began to focus on Ron again _. Let me see what you know, Weasley. Tell me where Potter can be found_. Ron could sense the intrusion again, and moved suddenly to break the connection. " ** _Protego!_** " he yelled, and Snape was thrown back, into the open door behind him.

" ** _Expelliarmus!_** " Hermione yelled, but he was still falling and her spell only grazed his ear, opening a wound but not disarming him.

Snape staggered but quickly regained his footing and responded without thinking. " ** _Expelliarmus!_** " The spell ripped the wand from Ron’s hand and threw him into the door to Hermione’s room, tearing it from its hinges. Ron and the door ended up in a pile and his eyes lost focus as he nearly passed out from the blow to his head. Hermione screamed and threw several curses at Snape, all of which he managed to parry despite one that burned a hole in his robes.

"Well, Miss Granger. It appears you too have not learned enough to challenge the Dark Lord yet." Hermione just smiled and slowly edged over behind Ron, moving towards her now-open doorway. Snape angled to the other side of the corridor, maintaining his distance, watching and waiting. He knew he had limited time, but killing Granger or Weasley wasn’t something he really wanted to do. It would defeat his purpose of searching for Potter, and it was so much more delicious to simply threaten them.

"Did you have some plan, Miss Granger? Or is this simply some sort of mudblood ritual dance?" The smile on Hermione’s face disappeared, replaced with a wide grin.

"Scared to do it, Snape? Scared to kill somebody? Harry said you were a coward, and I believe him. You only killed Dumbledore because you couldn’t stand to lose face in front of your friends. And now you can’t even kill a mudblood!" **_The opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself_ ** Hermione was baiting him, remembering the saying on Harry’s wall, and she could immediately tell she’d scored.

 

"DON’T CALL ME A COWARD, GRANGER! I KILLED DUMBLEDORE, THE MOST POWERFUL WIZARD OF THE AGE! THE DARK LORD COULDN’T KILL HIM…BUT I DID! Hermione just grinned.

"So, you can kill Dumbledore, but you can’t kill a couple of hopeless students. I think you’re scared. I think you’re still a scared little boy, Severus. I think…."

"DON’T CALL ME A COWARD, GRANGER!" he roared, shaking his wand. Snape was foaming at the mouth, his intense anger expressing itself in his heaving chest and his yelling. Hermione just smiled some more. She had lowered her wand a little, hoping he didn’t notice too much.

"You’re just a scared little boy, Severus." He finally snapped.

" ** _Expelliarmus!_** " Hermione tried to ward off the attack, but her wand went flying and she fell over Ron, breaking her leg as she hit the floor. She screamed, and Ron, still groggy, moved beneath her, trying to protect her from Snape’s advance. There was some other noise in the hallway, and Snape looked up to see Neville coming around the corner, his wand at the ready.

" ** _Expelliarmus!_** " came screaming from both Neville and Snape but neither spell struck home and they were left facing each other. Snape just grinned, as Neville looked serious.

‘Well well. Another famous member of Dumbledore’s Army. I suppose you think you’re up to the fight, Longbottom." Neville just nodded and raised his wand a little higher. Snape watched him carefully and then glanced down at Hermione and Ron. She was lying halfway inside her room, and Ron was still sprawled in the middle of the corridor. Neither could reach their wands.

"Well, Longbottom. I’m waiting. Did you have something to contribute here?" Neville looked at Hermione and then shifted to his left, moving a little further away. Snape glanced at the floor, again confirming that Ron and Hermione’s wands were well out of their reach. "I’m still waiting." Neville clenched his jaw and swung his wand. A jet of red flew from the end, but Snape parried it.

"Very good, Longbottom. You’ve finally figured out how to perform a non-verbal spell. Too bad it didn’t work." Neville fired again, with the same result. Hermione was groaning in the doorway, and both Snape and Neville glanced her way. Neville could see her face and understood her look. Snape couldn’t. Neville cast another spell, deliberately missing to Snape’s right. It forced Snape to turn to that side, and gave Hermione the moment she needed. Snape grinned at Neville, and then heard Hermione saying something.

"Speak up, Miss Granger. I can’t hear what you said." Hermione put her hands on the doorframe and painfully pulled herself up to a sitting position…and turned to showed her face, a grimace of pain blocked by her determination. Then she reached back into her room and brought her hands back out where Snape could see them. He tensed, thinking she might have another wand, but that wasn’t what was in her hand.

"I said ‘ ** _Your defenses must therefore be as flexible and inventive as the arts you seek to undo._** ’" She grinned and rammed a pin into the doll. Snape doubled over in pain as his gut erupted in agony. She pulled out the pin and slammed it into the doll again. Snape threw his head back into the air and screamed. The pain in his back was beyond belief. She pulled out the pin again, and carefully targeted the hand. His wand went flying as his fingers exploded away from his palm. Hermione pulled out the pin again.

"Did you enjoy that, Severus? Was that good for you? What? Is this a Dark Art you don’t know? How extraordinary…I thought you knew them all." He looked up, his face contorted in agony as she shoved the pin into the doll once more. Snape collapsed onto the floor and pulled his legs to his chest, trying to fight off the pain that would not stop. Hermione gritted her teeth and spoke again.

"Neville, please go get Madam Pomfrey. I think my leg is broken." Neville nodded and ran down the hall. "Ron, go get Tonks, and tell her to bring everyone." Ron nodded and struggled to his feet, limping off after retrieving her wand and snapping Snape’s in half. She sat on the floor, her back propped up against the doorframe, just watching Snape writhe in pain. She could pull out the pin, but she just didn’t want to. Within a few moments, she heard footsteps and Neville returned, out of breath.

"I found Luna. She’s going to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey will be right here. Are you all right, Hermione?"

"I will be Neville. I just…well, I think my leg broke when I tripped over Ron." Neville nodded and turned his attention to Snape. He was still rolling on the floor, his arms and legs pulled up against his chest. Hermione pulled out the pin and Snape stopped moaning. Hermione tried to straighten her leg a little, but the pain was too much. She sat back against the doorframe again and reached for her wand just as Snape came back to life.

With a violent lunge, he reached out and knocked the doll across the floor. Before Hermione could react, he grabbed her wand and rose unsteadily to his knees. Neville reached for his wand again and they were back where they had been before. Snape laboured to get to his feet, still unsteady from Hermione’s attack.

"So, Longbottom. Again it is up to you. And this time, Miss Granger won’t be able to help." Neville waved his wand again, and his silent incantation threw another bolt at Snape. Without speaking, he conjured a shield and the spell flew off down the corridor. "You are pathetic, Longbottom." Neville looked at Hermione, and then back at Snape, his expression set.

"You think you belong in Gryffindor? You don’t even belong at Hogwarts." Snape was in a rage, partly from the whole situation, partly because he knew he would not return with the information he sought, partly because Granger had just attacked him. _Granger…a mudblood…attacked me! I should kill her right now!_ His face turned from sneer to serious. He directed his comment at Hermione while continuing to monitor Neville.

"You think that was funny, don’t you Granger? You, the know-it-all mudblood found something your Professor didn’t know." Both Neville and Hermione began to sense he was preparing for something, and neither of them liked what they were seeing. "You are one thing I don’t miss about this place, Granger. You and that obnoxious ‘ **I know teacher** ’ attitude!"

"Shut up, Snape!" Severus turned his eyes back to Neville.

"What did you say?"

"I said ‘SHUT UP, SNAPE!’" Neville’s face was twisted into an expression of determination. He thought Snape was preparing to attack Hermione. She was defenseless. Neville knew he was the only thing preventing Snape from…from killing her. Snape’s mouth flared.

"YOU do not tell ME to shut up, Longbottom!" Snape spat the words, trying to verbalize his disgust.

"She’s smarter than you ever were…and she doesn’t crawl on her belly like a disgusting Slytherin, Snake." Neville actually just miss-spoke, but his choice of words enraged his old teacher, and Snape attacked.

" ** _Expelliarmus!_** " Neville twisted, silently conjuring a shield that protected him.

"You’re pathetic, SNAKE!" Neville’s voice betrayed the anger mounting in his heart.

"DON"T CALL ME PATHETIC! **_Crucio!_** "

" ** _Protego!_** " Neville successfully conjured a shield just as the spell reached him, but Sanpe’s words triggered memories in his mind that he could never forget…images flashing that enraged him beyond anything. He could see his mother, rolling in the pain of the Crucio. He could see Dolohov attack Hermione yet again. He could see Sirius falling backward through the veil. Snape was going to kill, and it was up to him to stop it. In an instant, he knew what he must do. "No, Hermione!" he screamed, and Snape turned away for just an instant.

" ** _Avada Kedavra!_** " A great rush of air and a green flash filled the hall, followed by the echoing thump of the body hitting the floor and then silence…utter silence. The only sounds were footsteps running closer…and the murmuring taps of a wand slowly rolling across the uneven stone floor, away from an outstretched lifeless hand. Then the footsteps stopped.

Around the corner, Tonks knelt down and very slowly edged her face around the bend, fearing the worst from what she had just heard. Behind her, Remus and Ron watched in fear as she began to absorb what they couldn’t see.

The first thing that came into her view was Hermione, slumped against the doorframe of her room, her eyes closed. And then a man, leaning against the wall, his wand still raised in anger, his face still set with rage. Tonks couldn’t see anything else, and moved a little to extend her view. There it was: a body, twisted at an unnatural angle, with a lifeless arm thrown out on the floor.

She retreated back around the corner, took a deep breath, and stood up, starting to speak before she advanced again.

"Neville, it’s me. Tonks." She wanted him to know who was coming before she suddenly appeared. Then she stepped forward, motioning for Ron and Remus to stay put. Neville slumped against the wall and Hermione opened her eyes, afraid of what she was going to find. Tonks moved to the center of the corridor and stopped, committing the entire scene to her memory. 

Ron could control himself no longer, and ran around the corner. Remus, his wand drawn, immediately followed. Together they gasped, and Ron ran the short distance to Hermione, quickly kneeling beside her. As they held each other and silently looked at the scene, Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall entered the hall from the opposite direction. McGonagall gasped as she began to absorb what she could see. 

Ron was holding Hermione, hanging on for dear life. Hermione’s eyes were filling with tears. Tonks was standing over the body of the late Severus Snape, and Neville was collapsed against the wall, his wand still held at the ready. No one spoke. None of them could think of anything to say. Behind McGonagall, Luna walked up, looking briefly at Snape, and then over at Neville. Her protuberant eyes seemed to see what everyone else was missing, and she walked over to Neville and put her arms around him. He immediately fell apart and slumped to the floor.

"He…was…I…killed him." Neville was in shock and Luna sat down, holding him as he babbled on, saying nothing but disjointed words and phrases. Tonks recovered and began to figure it out.

"Hermione, can you tell me what happened?" Hermione nodded, and tried to tell the story. Her voice cracked several times, and once she had to stop as her tears simply overcame her. Eventually, with help of Ron, she got the whole story out, starting back at the beginning. McGonagall’s face turned to stone as Hermione related the last moments…Snape’s enraged threats and Neville’s response. Madam Pomfrey knelt down to examine Hermione’s leg, but she pushed her away.

"Help Neville first. My leg can wait." She looked around, not certain what she should do. McGonagall nodded, and with Luna’s help, Madam Pomfrey got him back on his feet and headed towards the hospital wing. Hermione sat a little straighter, ignoring the pain in her leg and trying to convince Tonks and McGonagall that Neville hadn’t done anything wrong.

"Snape wouldn’t stop. He was going to kill us. He wanted to know where Harry was, and I don’t think he was going to stop until he found out." She started to continue, but Tonks smiled and spoke first.

"Hermione, I’m certain that Neville was acting in self defense. We will need a statement from him eventually, but nothing’s going to happen to him." McGonagall was still silent, trying to figure out what to do next. It was Remus who broke the silence.

"Minerva, do you recall our discussion about a Special Award for Service to the School?" McGonagall nodded. "I think we need to consider an additional award…for Neville." McGonagall immediately nodded her agreement. Remus reached over and picked up Hermione’s straw doll where it had landed. Holding it, he looked at her, his eyes questioning. She nodded.

"Well, let’s see," he said, smiling a little. "I think 100 points for Miss Granger for her defense of the school, and 100 points to Mr. Weasley for his efforts, and 100 points to Miss Granger for outstanding effort in the Defense Against the Darks Arts class…and 200 points to Mr. Longbottom for his defensive magic work." Hermione and Ron began to grin as McGonagall again nodded her approval. McGonagall started to consider what needed to be done when Hermione spoke again.

"Professor, could I…suggest something?" McGonagall looked at her…and then nodded. "I think it would be a good idea to keep this secret. He was undoubtedly sent here by Voldemort, and if no one knows what happened, it might disrupt whatever he has planned." McGonagall gasped when Hermione spoke the name of the Dark Lord, but that didn’t prevent her from listening to what else was said. She turned to Tonks who spoke up.

"Hermione, I have to inform the Ministry, but we can let Harry know what’s happened. I think my boss can keep it quiet, and I think you’re right." Madam Pomfrey returned, and with Ron’s help, Hermione started off to the hospital wing. The Headmistress was left to discuss her amazing students with Remus and Tonks as they looked at the remains of the former Potions Master.

 

It was almost midnight, and Hermione was still trying to get comfortable in the hospital bed. She could feel the pain as her leg began healing, and Ron was sitting beside her when they heard some commotion in the outer hall. Madam Pomfrey could be heard talking loudly and finally the doors opened. Led by Ginny, behind her came all of Gryffindor House, dressed in robes, pajamas and whatnot. They quietly gathered around the beds that held Hermione and Neville. Then Ginny spoke up.

"We didn’t want to go to bed without telling you how proud we are to be part of your House; how proud we are that you are part of our House." She stopped and unveiled a large card which Dean had created, signed by every member of the house. In the middle was a large animated Gryffindor Lion who pranced about and roared from time to time. Ginny leaned over and hugged Hermione, kissed her brother, and the hugged Neville. The entire house clapped and then they departed. Hermione thought for a moment and then sat up, turning to look at Neville.

 

"You were wonderful tonight, Neville. You once told me you didn’t think you should be a Gryffindor, but tonight you proved you are. Thank you." With Ron’s help, she hobbled to his bad and hugged him…kissing his cheek and tasting the tears that were falling from his eyes. Ron came around and they hugged.

"Neville, we wouldn’t have made it without you tonight." Neville looked a little embarrassed. Then Ron pulled the two beds closer together and sat down and for hours they talked about the old times.


	35. Plotting the Next Move

Chapter 35 – Plotting the Next Move 

Harry had been sitting for a while, and was starting to grow concerned when Lighthorse finally came into the café. As he sat down, Harry wasn’t certain how to read his expression.

"Hello, Harry. Sorry I’m late. It’s been a very busy day." Harry nodded, quite certain that was a serious understatement. "Now, I’ll wager you’d like to know what the Ministry is going to say or do about Snape, right?" Harry nodded again. "Well, as of right now, nothing happened." Harry wasn’t sure exactly what that meant and sought clarification.

"Nothing happened as in…what, exactly?"

"As you know, Miss Granger suggested…well, it was actually a little more than a ‘suggestion,’ that we keep his death a secret." Harry couldn’t help but smile, knowing how Hermione probably phrased her "suggestion." There are only two people at the Ministry that actually know what happened: Tonks, and myself. The rest of the Aurors stationed at Hogwarts know only the end result, and no one else at the Ministry has been informed at this time. We have been monitoring the mail to and from Hogwarts all year, and McGonagall has told the students that they can tell no one." Harry nodded, hoping that the secret could be maintained for a least a little while.

"Harry, I don’t know how long I can keep this under wraps. The Minister would be very upset if he knew that I’m keeping a secret from him. All the more so because he needs to show some positive results, and this would be a big coup for him…finding the man who killed Dumbledore and bringing him to justice." Harry smiled and then responded.

"I appreciate what you are doing, Mr. Lighthorse. I really do. And I also understand the position of the Minister. But I think that perhaps he is missing a couple of significant points." Harry paused and took a sip of tea. He had spent the entire night thinking about what had happened and how it might be used to his advantage. His thoughts were very well organized.

"Call me Edward, Harry. You’ve more than earned that, and I think we should work as equals." Harry grinned, and then continued.

"I don’t think that the fact that Snape penetrated the protections of Hogwarts is going to be viewed as anything positive. Parents allowed their children to return to school desperately hoping that they would be safe there. Just a few days ago, additional students returned since nothing bad happened during the first term. All of that would be undone if this gets out." Lighthorse thought about that and quickly recognized Harry was completely correct.

"And, while it is true that capturing Snape is an important milestone, I doubt the Ministry would want to reveal what really happened. It wouldn’t look good if word got out that three students had to deal with him." Lighthorse’ expression changed to something far more serious. Harry had identified the one real problem with the whole situation: it wasn’t an Auror who confronted the intrusion. "I’m not saying the Aurors didn’t do their job, but someone else might see it that way, and that’s not the image Scrimgeour wants to portray." Lighthorse had to agree with Harry on that point.

"Of course, he could always lie. In the past the Ministry has been pretty good at that. He could get pointers from Fudge or Umbridge." Lighthorse knew Harry’s comment wasn’t personal, and he didn’t take it that way. Silently he acknowledged that Harry Potter had some pretty good reasons for feeling the way he did. The Ministry had pretty well abused him for a long time, and assuming he wanted to try, he wasn’t going to change Harry’s opinion in one or two meetings, and certainly not by talking.

"Last, and to me most important: if Voldemort doesn’t know what happened, he’s left to wonder. If he’s wondering whether Snape was captured, or turned traitor or whatever, he’ll be occupied with his problems and not out creating more for us. If he was captured, what is he saying? Is he talking…trying to save his own skin? Personally, I like the idea of Voldemort being confused in the dark." Harry stopped, allowing his reasoning to sink in.

Edward Lighthorse III was impressed. When he first met Harry Potter, he wasn’t sure what to think of him. He was awfully young, but in some ways seemed very mature. He wasn’t sure about the "Chosen One" thing, but initially it didn’t much matter. Either he was or he wasn’t, and the safest bet at the time was to assume he was. When he watched Harry confront Mundungus, he thought maybe Harry had the right idea…sow confusion…divide and conquer. After the interview with Lucius, Harry hadn’t shared what he found out, but Lighthorse sensed he’d found the trip worthwhile.

Now, as they met yet again, he decided his suspicions had been correct: Harry was far more mature and intelligent than he first imagined. He was very impressed, and actually wished he could run his department as well. He decided to place his complete trust in Harry, something he didn’t do lightly.

"Harry, where do you see this going? How does this play out?" At first, Harry didn’t respond. They both sat thinking, considering how much they could share. For Lighthorse, it was about his future. If Scrimgeour found out he was hiding the death of Snape, he would probably be terminated…and he knew he couldn’t keep it a secret forever. If he agreed to what Hermione had suggested, he might be signing his own resignation papers. _I think Harry is right, but how would I ever convince Rufus? I’m way out over the edge already. I need to know what else he’s going to ask me to do._ Lighthorse decided to cast his lot with Harry, and in the process thought of something else to tell him.

Just like Lighthorse, Harry was at a crossroads. He had told him about the Horcruxes, or at least a little about them. Now he had to decide if Lighthorse could be trusted: was he a true ally or simply a tie-up of convenience. _Do I trust him? Are we close enough to the end to tell him more? Do I tell him…everything? Is it time yet?_ Harry sat quietly and thought, and Lighthorse sipped his tea and waited. _He’s done everything I asked so far. We’ll have to work together in the end. I need his help if I want to bring Voldemort into the trap. What will he say?_ Harry found himself asking a question he couldn’t answer: _what would Dumbledore do?_ Eventually he made up his mind and was ready to answer the question when Lighthorse spoke again.

"With all this excitement, I neglected to tell you, Harry. I’ve talked with a couple of people, and you have been granted access to the Department of Mysteries. Theophrastus Arcanum is the head of the Department, and he will provide you will whatever you need. He should be sending you a note shortly detailing how you can visit without anyone else knowing. He and I are the only Ministry employees who know about this."

"Thank you…very much," Harry said, smiling as he considered all the things he wanted to explore. _Why did he just tell me that? Is he trying to buy information?_ _I think…no…that’s a big deal! I think he really just remembered. He’s done everything I could possibly ask._ Then he set those thoughts aside and spoke again. "You asked where this is going." Lighthorse nodded. "Here is what I see happening." Harry spoke softly for several minutes, outlining what he was working towards. At the end, he sat back to see what response he got.

"Harry, I’m not sure what to say."

"Do you think I’m wrong?" Harry asked, really wanting to hear his opinion.

"No. No, don’t think I’m judging what you’ve proposed. It’s just a lot to fathom all at once." He paused. "No, I think you’ve covered the bases very well. I agree that we will all do better if we can force the confrontation on our own terms." It was obvious he had a million questions, not for Harry but for himself. _Has he got it right? Would the Dark Lord come into the trap? Would he have any choice? It’s a tricky place to fight, but it would be better for us. He wants to bring his friends! Could I allow that? What if one of them gets hurt? Or killed? Haven’t they earned it? They dealt with the Death Eaters last time. They dealt with Snape! Harry’s confronted the Dark Lord himself! How many times now? If he’s really the Chosen One, he must be there! Can we protect them? Do they NEED protection?_

Harry could sense the wheels turning. He knew he’d explained it too fast, but he wanted to get it all out before Lighthorse formed an opinion. Well, it was out there now…no going back.

"Harry, I’m going to need to think about all of this. I like what you’ve come up with, and my first thought is that it might work." Harry was content to nod his agreement. "I’ll get back to you shortly, Harry. You’ll need to let me know when the necessary steps have been completed and then we can discuss setting this up." Harry nodded again, and started to rise to leave. Then an idea suddenly occurred to him, and he sat back down.

"I have an idea." His expression said more, and Lighthorse was ready to listen.

"What is it, Harry?"

"You said that Scrimgeour would be upset with you if he finds out about Snape." Lighthorse nodded. "Okay, why don’t you tell him, except…." Harry outlined a quick thought, and Lighthorse immediately agreed. It was better, and better yet, it would cover him with the Minister. They both smiled as the solution provided both of them with something they wanted and needed. Then Harry got up to leave again.

"If anything changes, I’ll let you know. I expect that Voldemort is going to continue trying to find me. I don’t think Snape’s disappearance is going to stop him." Lighthorse nodded as Harry walked away _. I think he is **The Chosen One** , and I think he knows it._

Back home, Harry went into the War Room and started writing. He outlined everything he thought he needed to work on, and the sources for the information he needed. He paused for a moment, just long enough to dash off quick notes to Remus and Mad Eye, asking for some time. Then he went back to work, sketching more ideas and considering his plans. _I must find the Ravenclaw Horcrux. I don’t even know what I’m looking for, let alone where to look. Which of these killings were significant? Mine would have been…what about my dad?_

At some point, he reached complete mental saturation and took a break. Just to do something different, he began searching through the bookshelves, removing anything he thought might be worth additional study. Snape’s old copy of _Advanced Potion-Making_ joined several other books on the table…maybe the Prince could help him yet again.

And then, almost on a whim, Harry picked up another book, the text that Petunia had given him along with his mother’s diary. He had glanced at its pages briefly, assuming it was just another textbook. Now, for the first time, he actually looked at the title… _Charms That Can Save Your Life_. He set it on top of the stack and then looked up, discovering he had neglected something very important!

With a big smile on his face, he walked over and picked up his wand. Stepping around the table, he looked at the wall, and then with a exaggerated flourish, he moved his arm through the air. A large red X appeared on the picture of Severus Snape!

 

At the exact same moment, Bellatrix Lestrange was walking down a narrow country road leading southwest out of Biggleswade, roughly in the direction of Leighton Buzzard. However, she wasn’t going anywhere near that far, and quickly turned off the lane and onto a narrow track through some gorse to a deserted farmhouse. There was nothing to recommend the place, and outwardly it looked like it had been abandoned at least 50 years ago. In fact, if you asked any muggle who knew, they would tell you it had.

She walked slowly through the yard, passing the ruined foundation of what had once been a chicken coop, carrying her wand at the ready. When she reached the front door, it was open and she cautiously walked in. The interior was largely in the same level of disrepair, with holes in the ceiling, wallpaper peeling, and dust and dirt everywhere. However, when she opened the door to what had been the living room, things were different. The room was reasonably clean and neat, and looked completely habitable. It wasn’t remotely the manor in Wiltshire, but for the moment, this was Draco Malfoy’s home.

Draco was sitting at the table when she came in, his head in his hands. It was obvious he was upset. A closer look might have revealed he had been crying, but Bellatrix didn’t notice things like that. Instead, she launched directly into conversation, seeking answers and trying to restore order to her world.

"Draco, Snape has not returned. Did he say anything to you about his plans?’ Draco looked at his aunt, knowing she wasn’t happy. She had always hated Snape…hated the things he did, hated the fact he had stayed out of Azkaban, hated the fact that he always seemed to escape the wrath of her beloved Lord. In return, Snape had no use for her, and what he termed her pointless heroics. As he pointed out to Draco, she didn’t accomplish anything by going to Azkaban. Draco tended to agree with Snape, but he didn’t want to be in the line of fire between them.

"He didn’t say anything to me. He talked about going to Hogsmeade and trying to get into the school, but he didn’t explain how." Bellatrix stared at him, assuming the worst. Snape had probably failed, and now _she_ was going to have to explain to the Dark Lord why that was so. She had been placed in charge of him, and he had run away yet again. Worse, she didn’t know where he was. If the Dark Lord asked, she was going to have to come up with something, and she knew he didn’t want excuses. She set that aside for the moment and tried to formulate a plan that she could relate should her master ask.

"Draco," she said, sounding very sweet for the moment. "If you were going to find out where Potter is, what would you do?" It was her rather sneaky way of getting Draco to come up with something that she could propose. Then, since Draco suggested it, he could hardly back down when she told him to do it. Unfortunately, Draco wasn’t experienced or savvy enough to see where his answer might lead him.

"I think Potter is living some place secret, and he probably has a secret keeper. It is most likely either Weasley or the mudblood Granger. I suspect both of them would know where he is, but they’re both at Hogwarts." He stopped, having said everything he knew or suspected, and hoping that she wouldn’t ask anything more. However, he knew she would.

"How could someone get to them at Hogwarts?" Draco began to suspect she was going to involve him, so he tried to come up with something that was at least possible, and not suicidal.

"I don’t know what they might have done to the school, but I suspect there are new protections in place. I’m sure after last year that they closed the Room of Requirement, and in any case, someone at the school would have to open it to make anything happen. And I don’t know if the other vanishing cabinet is even still there," he added quickly. Then he paused…and continued. "The students aren’t allowed to go to Hogsmeade this year, so that’s out. I guess that means the only way to reach them would be to somehow get into the school."

Bellatrix thought about what he said. There were no great pearls of wisdom in his words. What he related was largely common sense, perhaps with the exception of his knowledge regarding Potter’s friends. Her only personal knowledge was that both Ron and Hermione had been with him at the Ministry when they last tangled. "Would they ever be outside? Perhaps somewhere away from the castle?" Draco had to think about that.

"Well, assuming nothing else has changed, they wouldn’t be studying Magical Creatures, so that’s out. They might go visit that oaf Hagrid, but there’s no telling when. About the only time I can think of would be if the Weasel is still playing Quidditch. He would be outside for practice, and then if there were a match." He stopped for a moment, but then hastened to add, "But at a match, there’d be a bunch of other people." Those were about the only weak spots Draco could see, and they weren’t really very weak. He didn’t know anything about whether the school was even allowing Quidditch this year, so it was largely guesswork.

"Could he be ‘convinced’ to leave after a practice?" Draco knew exactly what she meant. "Convinced" was just another term the Dark Lord used when he referred to the Imperious Curse.

"I suspect he could. He’s not much of a wizard, and I suspect he’d fall into line pretty easily." Draco suddenly realized he’d just volunteered for a job…a job he wanted no part of. It might be fun to toy with the Weasel, but there was real danger in trying to penetrate Hogwarts, and he hadn’t really enjoyed his one and only confrontation with "real danger." Bellatrix was thinking exactly what he suspected, and now she said so.

"Draco, I need you to sneak onto the grounds and bring Weasley to me."

"Couldn’t you go yourself? You’re a much more powerful witch. He’d have a harder time resisting your spell." Draco knew it was a weak argument, but it was the only card in his hand.

"Draco, you were able to deal with Rosmerta. This is no different. If Weasley is as weak as you say, then it should be no problem." Draco was being hung by his own words, for he hadn’t yet learned the first rule of speaking in front of the Dark Lord…" ** _Don’t say anything you don’t want to hear again_**."

"I’m not sure I can get onto the grounds. Snape said the tunnel from the Shrieking Shack was blocked with some sort of charm, so that’s probably out. From what I heard, you can’t floo into the castle any more, and they put up some sort of charm that prevents flying in, so I’m not sure how you could enter." Draco was praying she didn’t know any other ways, but she unfortunately did.

"Couldn’t you just walk in…through the edge of the forest or something?" Draco wasn’t sure about that. it would be all but impossible to actually fence the perimeter, magically or otherwise. The animals in the forest were always moving about, so it seemed unlikely any kind of "wall" would work.

"I guess maybe you could, but someone would likely see you, and I’m sure they’ve warded the entrances to the building." He was trying hard to make it sound difficult, but Bella was motivated, afraid of what the Dark Lord would say if she failed.

"But you could go through the forest, and come out near the Quidditch pitch. Once there, you could see this Weasel person and convince him to join you. I could wait just outside the area and assist once he left the school." She made it sound so simple: walk through the forest, imperio Weasley, have him walk out with you, and she’d do the rest. _Yeah, just like that._ After last year, Draco knew that nothing was that simple. Difficulties always arose.

"I would need some way to hide. To get close enough to the Quidditch pitch to see him would mean anyone at practice would see me as they flew around." Again, he was grasping at anything…any roadblock he could find.

"You could simply wear school robes, Draco. That wouldn’t be difficult." Draco shook his head.

"No. I suspect they are watching…er, guarding the area. Someone would be sure to challenge anyone hanging around." He was trying hard to make it sound impossible, but Bella wasn’t going to back down.

"You would need an…an invisibility cloak. That’s simple enough. I’m sure that Borgin probably has one." Draco could feel the walls closing around him. He had been put into a box, and there was no way out. And the box seemed to be getting smaller and smaller…more and more confining. "Draco, I want you to see about getting a cloak, and then go to Hogwarts and explore getting onto the grounds. Snoop around a bit and see if you can find a route through the forest." He nodded, not knowing what else to do. It wasn’t like he could refuse.

After Bella left, he just sat. He was left with the feeling that he was completely alone. There was no one to help him, no one to turn to. Last year, in the midst of his struggles, he talked with Myrtle. He knew that showed weakness, but she made him feel better. She at least listened. She seemed to care. Now he was just alone…no father…no mother…no Pansy…no Myrtle…no anyone.

For the first time, he realized he missed his friends. Even though they weren’t really friends, he missed Crabbe and Goyle. They were at least someone to talk to, even if the conversation was one-sided. He missed the common room…and his fellow Slytherins. He missed Pansy. Okay, she wasn’t the most beautiful girl, and certainly not the brightest, but she at least _seemed_ to care. He was never sure if she was just impressed by what he claimed to be or claimed to have done, but she responded. That was something! And she was a girl, which allowed him to deal with some of his other needs.

As he sat, he thought about the box once again. He began to realize the box looked a whole lot like a cell…or maybe even a coffin. He was trapped and afraid he was going to die. And knowing that, he began to cry again.


	36. Draco

Chapter 36 – Draco’s Destiny

Harry still subscribed to the Daily Prophet, so each morning included a visit from a tawny owl. The following morning was no different, but the front page had something of interest. The headline screamed over a picture with an attitude.

****

DEATH EATER CAPTURED

****

The Minister of Magic announced that Severus Snape, accused of the murder of Albus Dumbledore, has been taken into custody. No details are yet available, but Edward Lighthorse III, head of the Department of Aurors, advised that Snape was located by Aurors and was completely cooperative, offering no resistance when they contacted him. He was taken to an undisclosed location. At this time, no additional information is being released.

 

Harry had to smile as he read the paragraph again. It was very carefully worded, and in its own way, completely accurate. _Cooperative? Yep. No resistance? Yep! In custody? Yep!_ Inside, there was another report related to Voldemort, this one a little more detailed.

 

****

ANOTHER VICTIM OF THE DARK LORD

****

The Ministry of Magic announced that they have found the body of Sibyll Trelawney, a Divination Instructor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, in a small cabin just outside of Hogsmeade village. The Dark Mark, a sign of Death Eater activity, was seen floating above the cottage.

Trelawney was last seen leaving the school for a visit to Hogsmeade during the Christmas Holidays, and she did not return to the school….

 

The story went on, but the remaining details were unimportant. Harry was certain that this was yet another attempt by Voldemort to hear the complete wording of the prophecy, but according to Dumbledore, a seer was channeling something else when providing a valid prophecy and would have no memory of it.

Harry glanced through the rest of the paper, finding nothing really interesting. There was nothing in the Wand for Sale ads that required his attention. Just as he was about to start on something else, another owl appeared, carrying a letter with ministry seals. Harry checked the additional seal from Lighthorse and determined it was valid.

__

 

__

Dear Harry:

__

I have spoken with Edward regarding your request. Although it is most unusual, he has assured me that it is necessary and appropriate, both with regard to access and the related secrecy. He advised me that you know the location where a prophecy used to reside and, I have lifted the apparation block for that row only. I will meet you there at exactly one o’clock this afternoon. Please bring your cloak.

__

Sincerely

__

Theo Arcanum

__

 

Harry read the letter again. It was worded carefully, insuring that probably only Harry could follow the directions, given that almost no one else would know what location to target. Harry Potter was going to visit a place known to only a few, hoping to discover if Dumbledore was right.

 

At exactly one o’clock Harry materialized in row 97 of the Hall of Prophecy. It looked much the same as the last time he saw it, although with some guilt he noticed that several sections of shelving were now conspicuously empty. As he looked around, he easily remembered the crashing shelves and dozens of ghostly images rising to speak. He was surprised to find no one waiting for him in the aisle, and began to grow concerned that something was wrong. He immediately pulled out his cloak and threw it on, standing silent and invisible with his wand drawn.

Very shortly, a rather interesting man walked into the aisle a few steps and then stopped. He looked around and saw nothing, but spoke anyway. "Mr. Potter, I am Theophrastus Arcanum. Welcome to the Department of Mysteries." Harry debated, and then decided to reveal himself. As he removed his cloak, Arcanum spoke again. "Ah, very good. I’m sorry, I was unavoidably detained for a moment." He stepped forward. "I’m very pleased to meet you, Mr. Potter," he said, extending his hand. They shook and Harry took a moment to evaluate what he saw.

Theophrastus Arcanum was indeed an appropriate character to head something called the Department of Mysteries. He was average size, with a face adorned by a finely shaped handlebar mustache. He would be completely unremarkable except that his dress was odd, even for a wizard. He was, for lack of a better description, the exact likeness of Sherlock Holmes, the famous fictional detective, wearing black wingtip shoes and woolen slacks, topped by a brown houndstooth frock-coat and shoulder cloak…all topped by a matching deerstalker hat. Harry had seen many wizards fail miserably when they tried to dress like muggles. Arcanum, on the other hand, couldn’t have been more successful, other than he appeared to be right out of Victorian London.

As he led Harry along the rows of shelving, he kept up a running dialogue of how happy he was to finally meet the famous Harry Potter. Harry, on the other hand, pretty much ignored his dialogue and tried to remember his earlier visit to the room. He was also studying the layout of the space, filing away the information for future consideration.

At row 53, they turned and left the hall, entering into another room that Harry had seen before which Arcanum identified as the Hall of Time. Again, everything had been restored to pre-battle condition. The bell jar was again functional, and the shelves and desks that had been destroyed were neatly in place. Oddly, there was no one working in any of these spaces, and Harry began to wonder.

"Mr. Arcanum, are there normally people working here?" Theo turned around and smiled.

"These are work spaces, Harry, but there are very few people who actually work in the Department. For the moment, everyone is assigned somewhere else, somewhere where they won’t see us walk through. In the future, you will want to wear your cloak while coming here, but still the odds of running into anyone are not high." Harry nodded his understanding. For some reason, he just assumed that a desk meant a body, but that was evidentially not the case.

They proceeded on, exiting the Hall of Time and proceeding into the entry hall…the circular room with the revolving doors. Today, however, everything stayed put.

"The last time I was here, the doors always shifted around when we came in here." Arcanum turned and smiled.

"Yes, they will do that when the Department is closed. During the day, it’s just too much bother. In any case, Harry, there is a way to determine which door is the one you want." Harry began to listen very closely, wishing he’d had this information before. "If you look carefully at the floor, you will find a little icon in front of every door. Even if the doors rotate, they will always align to the proper icon.

Harry looked down. At first he saw nothing but the varied colours and hues of the terrazzo floor. But when he looked closer he noticed a very tiny clock face etched in the floor, right in front of the door they just passed through. _Okay, that one leads to the Hall of Time._ He was about to start looking at all of them when Arcanum walked away, to a door on the far side of the room.

"Eventually, you will probably want to know all of them, but for the moment I think, you’ll only need four. The door we just came through will take you to the Hall of Time, and from there you can go to the Hall of Prophecy. That is the only place you can apparate, Harry, and only from the correct row." Harry nodded. "This door leads back to the Ministry." Harry studied the floor and finally found an icon that looked like a small golden grid; the gratings on the front of the lifts. "You won’t need that door unless you need to use the restroom while you’re here." Again, Harry nodded.

"Now this door leads to the Execution Chamber. I understand you’ve been in that room before." Harry’s face grew somber. He had indeed been in the room, a room filled with memories he would rather forget. For a brief moment, the scene of Sirius falling through the veil involuntarily filled his mind, and he had to push it back and shake off the feelings associated with it. Harry looked down, and found the icon, a small rectangle bisected at an angle. The top half was gold; the bottom half black. Harry was puzzled.

"What does that symbolize?" Arcanum smiled slightly.

"The mark used to be an axe, but that eventually seemed rather barbaric. So many years ago, it was changed. The symbol now is the blade from a guillotine, which is still rather barbaric…at least in my opinion. Since wizard execution is much more humane, I would prefer to change it again, but it’s just not considered very important, so no one’s done it." Harry nodded. Assuming you needed to execute someone, the veil did seem…better. He was sure Nick would agree.

"Now, this is the room you’ll be wanting to see Harry. It is the only door that is locked all the time." Harry nodded, knowing well it was locked. He searched the floor and found a small golden heart embedded in front of the door.

"How does it open?" Arcanum smiled.

"Harry, I am about to tell you something that perhaps only four other living people know. The Minister of Magic can’t enter this room. The Head of Aurors can’t enter this room. Most of my own employees can’t enter this room. Well, I guess it would be more accurate to say those people don’t know how to enter the room." He paused, and then continued. "I must tell you I thought long and hard about whether I should add you to the list." He was speaking as the trustee of a sacred space. Harry nodded respectfully, understanding how significant this knowledge must be. "What I’m about to tell you must remain…with only you, Harry." Harry nodded again, recognizing and accepting the trust that Arcanum was granting.

"Your own request was not the first time someone has asked me to let you inside." Harry’s eyes went wide. "A couple years ago, Albus Dumbledore told me that someday you would need to see what’s here." Harry was amazed. _Dumbledore knew I’d need to look inside? Well, I guess that makes sense. He was always the one who said my strength came from my ability to love._

"When Dumbledore asked me, I told him no. Then he told me a little bit about why he asked. I still told him no, but I did ask what he wanted to find out. Since I wouldn’t let him in, he decided to tell me what his question was. Reluctantly, he told me, and I researched it for him. You see, Harry, I have known something of your personal prophecy for a couple years now. I don’t know all of it, and frankly, I don’t want to. Prophecy really scares me, for far too often people misunderstand or miss-interpret the words and take actions that make no sense." Harry didn’t completely understand, and his face apparently betrayed his confusion, so Arcanum continued speaking.

"Too often, prophecies become true only because people believed them in the first place. King Croesus of Lydia believed he understood a prophecy when he heard that if he attacked his Persian enemies, a great empire would fall. He attacked, but it was his own empire that fell when he lost. He was the last king of Lydia." Harry was stunned. What he described was another situation where the prophecy came true only because someone believed it in the first place. If Voldemort hadn’t believed, and misunderstood, then Harry wouldn’t have been "marked" and the whole world would be different. His whole world would be different! _Dumbledore was right! My prophecy isn’t the only one like this. This IS about choices._

Harry’s brain went into overdrive. He had never really understood what Dumbledore had said before. He just accepted it, and moved on to what seemed more important. But now…now he could understand much more. People had made choices. Voldemort made choices, albeit based upon poor information. His mother had made choices, forced upon her by Voldemort, but nevertheless…. Harry had made choices. I tried to send Ginny, and Ron and Hermione, away. _I thought I needed to protect them…to save them. I made another choice when I offered to save Draco._

"Understand this, Harry. Love is something we study, but it will never be something we understand. We understand Astronomy. We understand a little about time. But we know almost nothing about love…and probably never will. What I am about to show you will not provide answers. It may only confuse you further. It may only lead to more questions, and I can’t help you find the answers. In the end, love is something you just have…or don’t have. Either way, it is just a feeling, an emotion. I’m not trying to make it sound unimportant, because it isn’t. It’s very important. You may make some of the most important decisions of your entire life because of love. But don’t expect to understand it. No one does!"

Harry couldn’t help but agree. He knew how he felt about Ginny, but honestly had no idea why. He couldn’t identify anything that made him feel that way…he just did. Ron and Hermione were his best friends. He loved them dearly. But he had no idea why. They both had little quirks that drove him nuts, and he’d had to endure their "difficult periods" over and over again. But still…he loved them.

"So, Harry. How do you get into this room?" Harry looked at him again and refocused. "The key is neither a spell nor an incantation." Harry looked puzzled. "Simply place your palm on the door and focus your thoughts on that which you truly love the most." Harry looked stunned. _Is it really that simple?_ "That sounds easy, and perhaps for some people, it might be. But for others, what they love the most is money or power or fame." They could never open the door, for their true feelings would betray them." He stood aside. "Give it a try, Harry."

Slowly, Harry advanced to the door and reached out. It was the mirror of Erised all over again. The mirror would show you the fondest desires of your heart, but it might reveal something you didn’t really want to know. This door could do the same, forcing you to understand where you truly place your values. Harry thought he knew who he loved the most, but asking a door to tell you if you were being honest with yourself was…well, for lack of a better word…daunting. _I believe. I know the truth._

Harry placed his palm on the door and focused his entire being on Ginny. Then he pushed.

Harry could sense something. He felt…well…he wasn’t sure what he felt. His impression was that the door was evaluating him, almost like the Sorting Hat. He could feel the door…thinking? Then, slowly the it began to move. There was resistance, but the door was opening. _Maybe it doesn’t like to open. Maybe it’s just stuck since it isn’t opened very often. Maybe this is the way it’s supposed to be._ In any case, the door opened, and Harry Potter was admitted into a very secret room, a room visited by few before him.

Harry had no idea what to expect inside. He had thought about it from time to time, but had no idea what love might look like, assuming it had a physical form. Arcanum came in behind him and the door immediately closed again as Harry looked around. There were a couple of desks off to one side, decorated with a few odd scraps of old parchment. The whole floor was a little dusty, which Harry concluded was because the cleaning crew wasn’t allowed in either. The room was warm, much warmer than the hallway, and seemed…well…friendly, or cozy. It just felt good.

Then he looked up, gaping at what he saw. The ceiling seemed to stretch up to the heavens, and the entire space was filled with a gigantic, luminescent sphere…a sphere comprised of millions and millions of little lights. There were so many that they seemed to merge into a single, glowing sphere of…something. _What is it? What does this have to do with love?_ Harry turned to Arcanum, his face filled with wonderment.

"Not what you expected, Harry?" Harry nodded, not knowing what else to say. "That’s a pretty typical reaction, although since not many people have ever seen it…." He let his voice tail off as he looked himself, still mystified after years of looking at it.

"What is it?" Harry asked, still having no idea what he was viewing.

"That," Theo said, "is love, Harry." The answer made no sense.

"But…."

"What did you think love would look like, Harry?" It was just a friendly question, and one to which Harry had no answer. He just shook his head, saying he had no idea.

"Love is how we feel about others, Harry. Love is how we feel about ourselves. Love is how we share. Love is what connects us with others, Harry." _Okay, all that makes sense, but what does this…ball…have to do with that?_

"I can show you only one thing about love, Harry. It may be the _only_ thing, but it is the only thing we know." Harry looked at him very seriously. _What one thing can he show me? Is it the thing I need to know? Is it a weapon I can use? Will it help me defeat Voldemort?_

"If you ask, the sphere will show you love." **_What! What does that mean? How can it show love?_**

Arcanum took out his wand and pointed at the sphere. Rather quietly, as if he was in the depths of a library, he spoke. "Theophrastus Arcanum." Harry jumped as the sphere began to rotate, spinning around so that what had been on the top was now facing them. Then a small section of the surface began to bulge, almost as if someone was holding a magnifying glass before them. It stretched out, away from the center, distorting the surface until a few individual lights began to become distinct. One light, directly in the middle of the bulge, began to glow blue.

The bulge continued to move, growing and writhing, stretching ever closer and closer to them until Harry felt he could reach out and touch it. The blue light in the center of the bulge had threads of light that connected it to a mass of other lights. The threads were different colours, and some were much thicker than others. There was one green thread that was very thick.

"That is love, Harry. The light in the middle, the blue one, is me. About all I can tell you is that the threads tell us how we are interconnected with love. The colours and thickness seem to indicate some sort of differences between our relationships." He stopped rather abruptly, and Harry looked at him. "That’s about all we really know about love, Harry. Everything else is guesswork." Harry looked back at the sphere, trying to fathom what it displayed.

"Dumbledore told me that the answer you need is somewhere in there," he said, gesturing at the sphere. "But he didn’t tell me what it was?" Harry considered that. Dumbledore must have known the answer, or at least he must have known the question. _What did Dumbledore expect me to find? What could this reveal?_

"Now, Harry. I must leave you. When you are done here, use your cloak and return to the Hall of Prophecy. You can apparate from there, but only from that one aisle. I will leave that aisle unencumbered as long as you need it, Harry, and you may return whenever you wish to study further." Harry nodded. Arcanum pointed his wand at the ball again. " _Finate_ ," he said quietly, and the bulge retracted, returning the sphere to its round form again.

The door opened and closed, and Harry Potter was left alone…alone, but in a room filled with love. He considered all the things he wanted to know, but if the only thing the ball could do was…well, whatever it was he just saw, then he wasn’t sure he could learn much. He sat down at a desk and began to consider what he could accomplish in this room. _What do I ask? Do I ask about me? What will it tell me? Do I want to know?_

Very slowly, he pulled out his wand. He wasn’t sure what the ball would reveal. Even more, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. But he had to find out! He stood up, moved back a little, and then pointed his wand towards the ball. "Harry Potter," he said quietly.

The sphere began to rotate once again, turning over and over while searching for the correct spot. Eventually it slowed to a stop and the side began to bulge once again. Then the door opened, and Harry turned, his wand quickly raised in defense. However, it wasn’t a person that entered but rather a pale lavender paper airplane. He knew what it was, but why was it here? It couldn’t very well be addressed to him, and who else was likely to be in this room. _How did it get through the door?_

It abruptly stopped and turned, flying directly into him. He ignored it, assuming it was looking for someone else and had determined they weren’t where it was looking. However, the memo kept striking him. Finally he gave up, reached out and snatched the memo out of the air. It immediately stopped flapping, and he unfolded it.

FROM: _Edward Lighthorse, Department of Aurors_

TO: _Harry Potter_

RE: _Draco Malfoy has been located and surrounded in Knockturn Alley. Please respond immediately._

Harry jumped. Things were starting to happen faster than he anticipated, but he knew what he had to do. He turned and looked at the ball. There was a blue light in the center of the bulge, with numerous threads of different colours running in many directions. He pointed his wand and released the spell, and then threw on his cloak, running through the doors and hallways of the Department of Mysteries until he reached row 97 and headed out. It was time to attempt another task on his list.

Harry landed in front of his own fireplace and immediately dashed upstairs. He knew exactly what he needed, and quickly grabbed it, running back to an empty space and apparating directly to the back room at Fred and George’s shop. It was closer than anywhere else, and yet still somewhat private. Verity was sorting some merchandise when Harry suddenly appeared, and she was still screaming as he left, apologizing as he ran out into the front of the shop and thence outside. As he ran down Diagon Alley, he reviewed his thoughts again, hoping his plans would work.

A quick right at Quality Quidditch Supplies took him to the first shortcut into Knockturn Alley, and he slowed to a walk as he approached Borgin and Burkes. There was a crowd milling around outside the shop, which broke into urgent hushed whispers as they realized who he was. He finally worked his way through the throng and reached the front door, finding Lighthorse standing there with his wand raised.

 

"Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Harry?"

"I think so," Harry nodded. He had considered this confrontation several times, and thought he knew a way to make things work. Now it was time to see if he was right. Without further conversation, he walked through the open door and into the shop, silently talking to himself. _Remain calm. Don’t get angry. Don’t let him bait you into something. Remember…he’s scared. Give him a way out…like Dumbledore did. Don’t threaten him._

Inside, Draco was cornered. Williamson and Dawlish were both glaring at him…three wands raised at the ready. Harry was pleased to see that everyone looked to be uninjured as he slowly advanced, allowing all three of them to see he was there. Draco’s expression immediately changed. He tightened his grip on his wand and tried to look a little more in control and arrogant. Harry turned to Dawlish.

"Thank you, Delphic. Would you wait outside please?" Williamson and Dawlish both looked very uncertain, but they had their instructions from Lighthorse. Dawlish walked to the front door, and Williamson withdrew into the back room, leaving Harry and Draco alone. Then Harry turned. "Hello, Draco," he said conversationally. Malfoy sneered. Harry noticed his hair was now much longer, and dyed black. It was a passable attempt at disguise, but Harry could easily see the real Draco Malfoy. He also saw other changes. Draco was a little taller, but the real changes were in his face. He looked drawn…gaunt…worn…like the last year had taken a heavy toll.

"What! You’re a big man now Potter? You just order Aurors around?" Draco said, his attitude clearly audible in the way he spit out the words. _He’s just posturing. Ignore it._

Draco _was_ trying to posture, but inside he was anything but confident. _What is Potter doing here? Why did they call him! How am I going to get out of this? Is he going to try to kill me? Are the aurors going to kill me?_ Harry smiled.

"No. I have no authority within the Ministry. I just asked for opportunity to talk with you if…well, if someone found you." Draco didn’t know what to make of his words. It certainly wasn’t the answer he expected. The two of them just stood for a moment.

"What makes you think I want to talk to you, Potter? You’re just like Dumbledore. All he wanted to do was talk, too."

"I know, Draco," Harry said evenly. _Stay calm._

"What do you mean, ‘you know?’ YOU KNOW NOTHING, POTTER!"

__

He doesn’t know I was there. How can I use that to my advantage? Harry knew Draco was simply blustering now, and he decided to reveal a little and see if he could deflate him a bit. _I need to calm him down, otherwise he’s going to go off._ Harry forced himself to remain outwardly calm, remembering how Dumbledore spoke with Draco just before…before he died.

__Harry knew Draco was simply blustering now, and he decided to reveal a little and see if he could deflate him a bit. Harry forced himself to remain outwardly calm, remembering how Dumbledore spoke with Draco just before…before he died.

"Draco, you have a lot of problems right now. I know that."

"Shut up, Potter," he interrupted. "You don’t know ANYTHING!" Draco shook his wand in Harry’s direction, but nothing more happened.

"I think you’d be surprised what I know, Draco. Last year, Voldemort told you to kill Dumbledore. But when the time came, you didn’t. I don’t think you really wanted to." _Keep it calm. Don’t let him get to you._

"THAT’S A LIE!" Draco’s anger was rising. Potter, his sworn enemy was accusing him of cowardice!

"Then why didn’t you, Draco? You had every chance, but still…you didn’t."

"WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT IT?" _He doesn’t know what happened. Does he? How could he? Damn you, Potter!_

"I was there, Draco. I watched the whole thing. I listened as Dumbledore talked with you. I listened when you explained how you made the vanishing cabinets work." Draco interrupted.

"You’re just guessing, Potter! You weren’t there! YOU DON’T KNOW!" _He couldn’t have been there!_

Harry continued, almost as if he hadn’t interrupted. "I listened when you told him about Rosemerta and the necklace and the mead. I listened when he suggested you should get on with what you came to do. I saw what happened, Draco. When the time came, you didn’t want to do it. When you were there…with the Carrows and Greyback…they told you to do it…but you didn’t." Harry chose his words carefully, never suggesting that Draco was a coward. He wanted to leave him a way out. _Careful. He’s getting to you. Don’t…._

"You’re lying, Potter!" Draco was confused. _How does he know all that? He wasn’t there…I would have seen him._

"I was there, Draco. I know what happened. I heard Dumbledore offer you a way out…a way that you didn’t think you could take." Harry smiled and relaxed a little, trying to get Draco to back down a bit. He even lowered his wand a little, still ready, but not threatening.

"YOU KNOW NOTHING…POTTER! NOTHING! I could have killed him any time I wanted!" _I could! I could have done it! It would have been easy!_ Draco had given up denying Harry was there, and was now trying to convince himself he had been in complete control that night…but it wasn’t working.

"Draco, I know your life is very hard right now."

"SHUT UP, POTTER! If you’re so important…if you’re so…so powerful….then just kill me. Get on with it. Go ahead, try and kill me!" Harry didn’t respond. "What’s the matter, Potter? Can’t do it? I thought you were so tough?" Draco paused. _He can’t do it! I’m still stronger than him._ " ** _Expelliarmus!_** " Harry silently conjured a shield, and the spell flew off, striking a cabinet and breaking some glass.

"Not very good, Draco. Is that your best?" Harry was responding, and he was mad. But only at himself. _Damn it all. I can’t do that. He’s getting to me, and I can’t let that happen._

"Your move, Potter. You think you’re so good. Let’s see what you can do." Draco thought he was back in charge. _I scared him. He flinched. I can take him. But…then what. The aurors will come back in and…._

Harry commanded himself to calm down. _I can’t get into a duel of spells with him! I have to talk him through this. Get him talking again_ "Draco, you need to listen. I know you’re all alone." Harry didn’t want to pile on too much, but he felt that he needed bring Draco back to reality before trying to do anything else.

"So what!" _He’s right. There’s nothing left for me._ Draco’s heart was back at the farmhouse…thinking about how his life had been destroyed. And he could see Bella, demanding his sacrifice. Harry continued.

"Severus Snape is dead, Draco." Harry paused and let that sink in.

__

Dead? He’s dead? No, that’s not what the Prophet said. "You’re lying, Potter! He’s not dead!"

__"You’re lying, Potter! He’s not dead!"

"Yes, he is, Draco, Harry said softly. "The Prophet only reported what we wanted them to…so Voldemort wouldn’t know what happened. He was killed two nights ago…trying to get into Hogwarts." Harry could see he scored.

__

Dead? Snape is dead? Is the Dark Lord sending me to my death too? I can kill Potter, but then the aurors will simply kill me. There’s too many of them.

__

"Draco, I know that Voldemort is growing upset that his plans aren’t progressing." Harry wasn’t positive about that, but Draco’s face quickly told him the truth.

Draco tried to figure out what to do next. He was confused by what Harry had revealed. _How does he know all of this? What is he going to do? Snape is dead? Did he kill Snape? Can I curse him and run out the back? No, that other auror went there._ He glanced towards the front door, seeing only the crowd through the dusty windows. _I’m trapped in here._

Harry sensed that Draco was uncertain and decided to move along. He lowered his wand a little more, and tried to seem less threatening.

"I have something to show you, Draco."

"What could you possibly have that I want to see, Potter!" Draco was teetering, trying to walk on a knife-edged ridge. When he looked down on one side, he could see a battle…a battle where he might kill or injure one or two of them…but a battle that would ultimately end in his own death. That was the only way it could end.

On the other side, the abyss was no better. For even if he somehow managed to survive, he would face the wrath of Bellatrix and the Dark Lord, and he knew the end result would be no different. The Dark Lord would not suffer further failure, and there was no Snape or father to protect him any more.

"I have a letter…from your father," Harry said evenly. _Get back in control, Harry. He’s scared. Don’t make it worse. Let him breath a little. He wouldn’t kill Dumbledore…he won’t kill me._

"Why would he give YOU a letter for ME?" _How could he have a letter from my father?_

Very slowly and deliberately, he drew the letter out of his robe and held it up where Draco could see it.

"I met with him a while back. He and I talked for a while. I promised him that you would not be hurt if he answered some questions. He gave me the letter to give to you. He said you would know how to open it." 

"What is this…some kind of trick?" Draco was still snarling, but his face betrayed his confusion. _I don’t understand. Why would my father meet with Potter? What does the letter say?_

Harry shook his head and then slowly advanced, placed the letter on top of a dusty display cabinet, and then retreated again, keeping his wand ready but low and unthreatening. "Why don’t you read it, and then decide," he said, almost conversationally. Harry retreated a little further, giving Draco plenty of room.

Draco had gone from angry and fearful to simply confused. _Why is he doing this? None of this makes sense. Is he simply trying to distract me? Is this purely a trick to make me vulnerable…while I’m not paying attention? Is there some charm or something on the letter? No…he handled it so…._ Finally, while watching Harry very closely, Draco reluctantly advanced.

Harry simply waited, his wand down, as Draco picked up the letter. He studied it a bit and then raised his wand, spoke something to unseal the parchment, and began to read. Whatever it said, Draco was impressed. Harry could see his expression change as he read and then re-read the words. Draco looked up, trying to appraise Potter’s position. _Can this be true? Would my father really make a deal with Potter? What about the Dark Lord?_

Harry just stood his ground, allowing Draco to consider his position. _He’s trying to figure out what happened. He can’t believe his father would do that. He’s scared…both of me and of Voldemort. He thought he knew everything…and now he doesn’t anything for sure._ Draco looked around.

"Draco, here’s the deal. I promised your father that you would not be hurt if I captured you. I promised him that I would testify at your trial. I know that you didn’t kill Dumbledore. I was there. I promised him that both you and your mother would be protected. The Ministry promised to review his case when things are over. I promised him that the Ministry would not take any action to seize Malfoy Manor." Harry stopped to let Draco catch up.

"Why should I believe you, Potter?" Harry shrugged. Draco wasn’t snarling any more. For the first time in almost forever, Harry and Draco were nearly talking.

"I don’t know what your father wrote there, Draco, but I would expect it confirms what I just said." Harry could see he’d scored. Lucius’ letter obviously did just that. "Other than that, I guess I can’t tell you why. But I know you’d rather be alive than dead. And I’d prefer you were alive too."

Draco sneered. "Since when did YOU care about ME, Potter?"

Harry struggled to maintain his control. _He’s weak. I need to talk to him. I need him to listen. Don’t argue… just tell him._ "Draco, since we were both born, other people have made choices for us. I didn’t ask to be ‘The Chosen One,’ but that’s what I’ve become. Voldemort made that choice and killed my parents. You didn’t ask to become a Death Eater; others put you there. Now, finally, you can make a choice for yourself…and decide what _you_ want." He paused and then added a little more.

"You asked when I started caring about you, Draco? I started caring when our little games started involving killing people. They aren’t games anymore."

Draco was still conflicted. Everything he knew said he should resist. _I should fight! I can kill him! But I can’t kill all of them. One of them would get me. I don’t want to die. There’s no way out of here._

"I have another letter for you Draco. It’s from Pansy. She misses you a lot, Draco. I promised her I’d give it to you if I saw you." He pulled the letter out and slowly walked forward, his wand completely slack. Draco reached out and took if from him, knowing what was probably inside. A letter from Pansy was most likely just some sentimental drivel, but still, he couldn’t say he hadn’t missed her too. He opened the letter and read, his heart feeling her tug a little. _She really does feel something. Do I care? Yeah, I think I do…at least a little. I’ve missed her._

Draco finally realized that he was stuck. He was in a cul-de-sac with no options left. He might kill or injure Harry, but he would die in the process. _If the Dark Lord hasn’t been able to kill Potter, if Snape couldn’t kill Potter, why do I think I can?_ His shoulders slumped a little, silently signaling his defeat. Harry noticed.

"Draco, I have one other letter you need to read." Harry advanced again, again handing him a folded parchment. Draco slowly took it. As he read, Harry retreated a little further, putting even more distance between them. He stopped when he reached the aisle that led to the front door. Draco finished reading, and then looked at Harry. _He’s telling me there’s a way out. He’s offering me a chance. Do I trust him? Do I have any other option?_ Draco read the text again, noting carefully what it said. He looked up, and then nodded his understanding, and the two of them stood silently. Harry slowly raised his wand.

The crowd outside had grown restive. Harry Potter had gone into the shop, and the Aurors had come out. What was happening? Who else was inside? No one seemed to know, and rumors were quickly infecting the entire group, which had grown large enough to block the entire alleyway. Those in front could now see Harry standing in the aisle.

Suddenly there was shouting inside, followed immediately by several spells flying here and there and crashes as cabinets and items hit the floor. Through the dust, they could see Harry raise his wand and scream. "Avada Kedevra!" The entire interior of the shop turned green, and everyone in the crowd gasped. Harry stood unmoving, seemingly frozen to a spot. Williamson and Dawlish walked back into the shop. After several minutes when time seemed to stand still for everyone, Harry picked up some parchment scraps and walked slowly towards the door.

"I didn’t have any choice. He just wouldn’t listen." Lighthorse nodded and Harry walked on out. The crowd parted and he walked off. Everyone had just seen Harry Potter kill, and none of them would forget it. A few moments later, Williamson and Dawlish came out of the door, carrying the lifeless body of Draco Malfoy between them. Lighthorse knew the news would travel fast.


	37. Bad News Delivered

Chapter 37 – Bad News Delivered

Harry knew the news would travel fast, and he had a couple of things he needed to do before it became general knowledge. As soon as he returned home, he took out a piece of parchment and composed a somewhat cryptic letter to Lucius Malfoy, hopefully explaining and justifying his actions. He marked the envelope per Lighthorse’s instructions so that it would be delivered without opening and dispatched Fawkes to Azkaban.

He also knew he needed to share the information at Hogwarts, since so many people there were personally acquainted with Draco and the news would hit the school hard. He stopped Fawkes long enough to give him a second note to deliver to McGonagall on his way north and then began to collect some things he needed to take with him. He checked his watch and decided to head out before dinner, since he had several stops to make while there. 

Minerva McGonagall was sitting at her desk when the flames erupted in the fireplace. She still had the note from Fawkes in her hand and watched as Harry got up and dusted himself off. "Good evening, Harry. What brings you to Hogwarts tonight?" Harry smiled and then spoke.

"I need to talk with Professor Lupin, and also some others. But first, I need to tell you what has happened, in case the news creates some problems for you. Since it concerns Slytherin, you might want to have Professor Slughorn come in also." Minerva sensed the news wasn’t good, and immediately left to track down the head of Slytherin House. In the meantime, Harry spoke with Dumbledore, bringing him up to date on recent events.

"Professor, the next article is going to discuss the prophecy, and indirectly…." Harry froze. He hadn’t thought about what Arcanum had said, but now, here with Dumbledore, he suddenly remembered. "Professor, I’m sorry, but something else happened today that I need to ask you about." As always, Dumbledore took his change of subject in stride and just smiled.

"What is it, Harry?"

"I met Theo Arcanum today, the head of the Department of Mysteries." Dumbledore smiled even wider.

"And what did you and Theo talk about?"

"Well, he granted me access to the department, you know, to do some additional study." Dumbledore nodded, his face reflecting Harry’s excitement. "He allowed me to access the room where…well…where they study love." Now Dumbledore’s smile grew even larger.

"That’s very good, Harry. I’m glad you decided to investigate what we’ve discussed."

"He said that you asked him about something several years ago, but he wouldn’t tell me what." Now Harry waited, hoping that Dumbledore would fill in the missing information. Dumbledore nodded.

"Am I correct, Harry, that you would like to know what I found out?" Harry nodded. "Well, I can’t tell you the answer, but I think you can figure out what I asked." Dumbledore was back in the teaching mode again, asking Harry to reason through what might have happened. _What would he have asked?_

"Professor," Harry began, unsure whether to try and figure it out or to plead for more help. "All he showed me was…." Harry stopped. _He could have asked the ball about me, but he would have known what to expect. I probably have threads running to Ron and Hermione, maybe the Weasleys…and to my parents if the ball includes people who are dead. The only thing different now would be Ginny!_ "Professor, you wouldn’t have asked about me, because you already knew most of that." Dumbledore nodded, urging him onward. _If he didn’t ask about me, then it must have been…Voldemort!_ "You asked about Voldemort!" Dumbledore nodded again.

"Very good, Harry. I did indeed ask about Tom Riddle."

"What did you find out? What did he tell you?"

"I think that since you now have access, you should see that for yourself, Harry. I think you will understand more if you examine the result directly." Harry nodded, a little frustrated. Why wouldn’t Dumbledore tell him? _What will be different if I see it? Would it have changed over time? Since the time he asked?_ Harry was about to return to his earlier discussion when Minerva returned with Professor Slughorn.

"Ah, Harry my boy. Good to see you again. How is the project going?" Slughorn advanced, hand outstretched, and Harry turned away as Dumbledore smiled at Slughorn’s friendly greeting.

"It’s…it’s good, Professor. I’m making some progress, and there’s still a lot to do, but it’s…good." Harry was not quite certain how much to say, not because he didn’t trust Slughorn, and certainly not because he doubted McGonagall, but simply because he didn’t want too many people knowing what he knew. Minerva returned to her seat behind her desk, and Harry pulled up another chair. Slughorn sat down, his girth making his chair groan as it disappeared under his robes.

"I need to let you know something. Something that will likely be in the Daily Prophet tomorrow." They both looked at him, waiting for the other shoe to drop. "They will report that I killed Draco Malfoy today, during a confrontation in Knockturn Alley." Minerva gave a little gasp, and Slughorn just stopped breathing completely.

"What happened, Harry?" he asked, his face looking very serious.

"I tried to talk him into surrendering, but he just wouldn’t stop. There were several aurors there, and I think he decided he had no way out. I told him it wasn’t worth dying over, that Voldemort didn’t really care if he lived or died, but he wouldn’t back down." McGonagall looked horrified. A student of hers, a young man with his whole life ahead of him, was dead. For no good reason. And Harry had been forced to kill someone. 

"Professor, I would like to talk with Pansy Parkinson. She was very close to Draco, and I spoke with her earlier. I think I should break the news to her personally." Slughorn nodded his assent, and got up to go find Pansy. While he was gone, Harry spoke with Minerva and asked her to help him with a small favor. She quickly agreed, pulled out her wand, and read the parchment he held in his hand before casting a charm. Very quickly, Professor Slughorn returned with Pansy in tow. Slughorn immediately left again and McGonagall retreated to the balcony of the office, leaving Harry alone with Pansy.

"Pansy," he began, "I need to tell you something." She looked very scared and apprehensive. "I saw Draco earlier today." Now she gasped, wondering what might have happened and fearing the worst. "I gave him your letter, and he read it." She almost smiled, but couldn’t quite force the expression past her fears. "He said to tell you…well, here. You can read it for yourself." Pansy took the parchment from his hand, deathly afraid to see what was written. She finally lowered her eyes and read the lines. Harry could see her reaction as she reached the end. She looked up, her eyes wide in disbelief, and then looked down at the parchment again. _Was this true? Could it be true?_

Harry slowly reached up and put his arm around her, pulling her into his hug. She wadded the parchment in her hand and squeezed into Harry’s embrace, allowing her emotions to run wild. The tears started flowing, and Harry just held her, knowing what she must be going through. "It will be all right, Pansy. Some day, it will be all right." Somehow she knew he was right, but some day seemed like a long way away, and she wasn’t sure she would survive getting there. Harry was content just to let her grieve, knowing the news was a shock to her.

 

After a while comforting Pansy, Harry left to wander the school. He donned his cloak and headed towards the Dark Arts classroom and a meeting with Remus. There was no one in the room, and Harry walked up the stairs to his office, remembering the last time he had come this way to see Lupin. On that day, years ago, Remus had been packing to leave, and Harry was crushed. Today, Remus was back, and the trip seemed much brighter.

"Hello, Harry," Remus said as Harry walked in after removing his cloak. "I understand you had some excitement today." Harry nodded. "Can you tell me about it?"

"I guess I can, Professor." Harry grinned. "I guess I’m the only one here who can." Rather than talk, Harry handed Remus a small piece of parchment, which he read very carefully.

"Congratulations, Harry. That is a very big accomplishment. You should be very proud. I’m sure James and Lily…and Sirius would all understand." Harry just stared for a moment. Remus was the one person who could refer to his parents and his godfather without causing immediate anger or sorrow. With Remus, he could talk about them and simply have a conversation, discussing painful memories without the pain. Somehow, their minds just allowed the emotions to be acknowledged but unexpressed. They both just…knew.

"So, what’s next, Harry?"

"That’s what I wanted to talk with you about, Professor. I think I need to…." Remus smiled and interrupted him.

"Harry, why don’t you call me Remus. After all, you’re not my student any more, and I think you can be accorded your place in the world of adults. You are of age, and Merlin knows you’ve certainly earned it." Harry smiled. Leave it to Remus, a man who was used to feeling like an outcast, to make him feel welcome.

"Well…Remus. I think I need to do some more work on a couple of things." Harry hadn’t told Remus about the Horcruxes but if he was going to provide what Harry needed, it was necessary that he understand more about what was happening. For a few minutes, Harry spoke, letting Remus know exactly what he’d been up to with regard to the Horcruxes. When he finished, Remus looked incredulous.

"I never knew that, Harry. Thank you for telling me."

"When Dumbledore and I went looking for things, he was able to identify secret openings and invisible objects and such by sensing the magic used for concealment or testing for residual traces of magic. I need to learn how to do that. I also need to learn a bit more about shield charms and similar protections." Now Remus looked serious.

"Those are complex topics, Harry. Not that I don’t agree you’ll probably need them, but they will require a lot of work." Harry grinned.

"More than a Patronus?" Now Remus smiled.

"No, Harry. I think I know what you are capable of doing, especially when you put your mind to it." He grinned even more. "Some day, you’ll need to ask Hermione about what she did with her project in alternative magic. It was very impressive." Harry nodded. He knew a little about what she had been studying, but nothing about her encounter with Snape other than the outcome. Then Remus had a sudden thought.

"Are you doing anything tonight, Harry. Do you need to leave immediately?"

"No, Profess…er, Remus. I was going to go home and study some, but I don’t have anything specific to do. Why? Was there something you needed?" Remus grinned.

"There’s a meeting of Dumbledore’s Army tonight…in the usual place. I though you might like to attend…as a special guest." Harry started to laugh. _Dumbledore’s Army_. The name brought memories of better times, and fun with his friends. Memories of destroyed tables and singed robes and errant spells. Memories of people learning new skills. Memories of friends who Harry had missed a lot. Neville…Luna…Cho…Ron…Hermione…Ginny! He missed them a lot.

Remus filled him in on a few of the details regarding the confrontation with Snape, and then together they walked up to the Room of Requirement. The door was open, and nearly everyone was there. Only a few of the staff knew Harry was visiting, and none of the students knew he was there. Even Ron and Hermione were unaware, and Harry decided to surprise even Ginny. He let Remus walk in first, and then followed…still wearing his cloak.

"Good evening, everyone. We are going to dispense with some of the scheduled subjects for tonight. Instead, I have a surprise for all of you." Remus had the undivided attention of the entire group now, and he decided to have a little fun since this wasn’t a formal class. "As you know, and as we have discussed, the lessons you learn here may be needed some day. Tonight I have invited an old friend to talk with you a little about using what you have learned." The entire group looked around, searching for this mystery guest. Harry was standing only a few feet away from Ginny and Hermione, grinning as he contemplated his unmasking. 

"I am pleased to present to you one of the founders of Dumbledore’s Army." He stopped, and looked around, letting everyone wonder who he was talking about. Harry just waited, knowing that even Remus didn’t know exactly where he was. Finally, with a great flourish, he swept the cloak from his shoulders and magically appeared. There were gasps and shrieks as people within the room recovered from their surprise. Ginny screamed, and then recovered enough to run into his arms. Hermione and Ron just grinned, having deduced it must be Harry.

After a quick hug and kiss, Harry stepped away from Ginny and pulled out his wand. He pointed at several different people in turn, using a non-verbal "Expelliarmus" to disarm them and send wands flying across the room. Then he stopped and grinned.

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he bellowed, catching the entire group off guard. Then he relaxed. "You may remember Professor Moody speaking about that term." All of the seventh years began to smile, nodding as several of them scurried to recover their wands. "I’m not going to tell you that you are in danger every moment, but there are some bad people out there, and you will need to remain alert when you are away from the school." Of course he knew about Snape’s excursion within the school, but thought it better to maintain the illusion that the school was safe.

"Now, let’s see you pair up, and we’ll see how much you’ve forgotten." For all of the original members, it was a great evening as Harry walked among them, pointing out errors and gently correcting little things. They quickly ran through disarming and freezing charms, shields and other protections. Remus quickly discovered that Harry was a natural teacher, working gently with everyone, teaching where appropriate and prodding for greater effort when necessary. Eventually, they even took a shot at a Patronus Charm. There were some old timers who were successful, but the newer members had not yet learned to repel dementors. At the end of the time, Harry paused next to Neville and put his arm around his friend.

"Back at the beginning, Neville struggled as much as anyone when we started. He was, however, determined to learn. He worked hard, and began to master the new skills as fast as anyone." Neville beamed, as did his partner Luna. "When it came to the first battle for the Army, the confrontation at the Ministry over a year ago, Neville contributed as much as anyone, myself included. And this year, when we confronted Death Eaters and dementors, Neville was there again." Harry stopped for a moment and looked straight into Neville’s eyes.

"A few days ago, Neville confronted and conquered his own worst fear. He did that by learning both the spells and charms he needed and…by learning to have faith in his abilities." Harry grinned as everyone started to acknowledge what Neville had done.

"In my first year, when I was heading out with my friends for another one of our dangerous adventures, Neville tried to stop us. It was something we had to do, but Neville was right that night. We were taking a chance, and breaking school rules in the process." Harry turned to look at Hermione who was trying hard to suppress a giggle. 

"Neville just wouldn’t back down, and we finally had to hex him so we could go on. I’ve never really said anything about that, but Neville, I’m really sorry we did that. What we should have done was invite you to come along. We could have used you, especially when we encountered a rather nasty Devil’s Snare." Harry continued to grin as he hugged Neville. Hermione and Ron both moved closer and took turns hugging him also.

"If you want to know what being part of this class can do for you, just ask Neville." He stood back a bit and started clapping. Hermione and Ron immediately joined him, and then entire group. Neville was embarrassed, but it felt good nevertheless. "Now, I’m afraid, it is time for me to go. I miss seeing you all, but we know the school is safer without me being here." He smiled at everyone and then added, "It would be better if you didn’t mention I was here tonight." There were several laughs as the group started to dissolve. Finally, it was just the gang left and Remus spoke up.

"Hermione, will you close the room when you’re done?" She nodded and he walked out. Hermione looked at Ginny and Harry and then spoke up. "Ginny, I think there’s something wrong with the Gryffindor portrait." Ginny was confused. "From what I heard, the nightly seal isn’t working tonight, so the access door will be open all night. And I’ll probably forget to do the bed check." With a smirk, Hermione took Ron’s hand and pulled him out of the room. Harry grabbed Ginny’s hand and pulled her out of the room, watching the door disappear.

"Where are we going, Harry?" He just grinned, and started walking back and forth. _I need a room where I can shag Ginny senseless. I need a room where…._


	38. Ginny

Chapter 38 – Ginny’s Adventure

Harry knew what to expect. He knew it would be front page news. He knew it would be sensational. He knew it would thrust him back out into the public view, a place he had managed to avoid for a while. He knew…well, he knew it wasn’t going to be fun. He was right on all counts. When the Prophet arrived, he almost tossed it directly in the fire, but then decided he ought to know what was being said.

****

THE BOY WHO LIVED KILLS!

****

 

The headline was alone bad enough, splashed in big bold type over a picture that took up the entire front page…a picture that didn’t move…a picture of Draco Malfoy lying dead in an aisle of Borgin and Burkes. He opened the page to find the story inside.

Draco Malfoy, son of convicted Death Eater Lucius Malfoy and a Death Eater himself, was killed in a confrontation in Knockturn Alley. In a strange turn of events, the Aurors who first located him walked away and allowed Harry Potter, The Chosen One, to finish him off. Edward Lighthorse III, head of the Department of Aurors explained what happened.

"We asked Mr. Potter, who was personally acquainted with Malfoy, to see if he could talk him into surrendering. They spoke for some time, but eventually Malfoy attacked Mr. Potter and he was left with no choice but to defend himself. There were many witnesses, including myself, and Mr. Potter did everything possible to prevent this outcome."

Minister of Magic Rufus Scrimgeour stated that the result was "very unfortunate, but unavoidable" pointing out that several Death Eaters have decided to fight rather than surrender and citing the recent death of Antonin Dolohov as an example. Dolohov was killed in a confrontation with muggle law enforcement personnel.

Malfoy was expelled from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year after his involvement with the death of Albus Dumbledore was disclosed.

 

 

" _So much for staying out of the spotlight_ ," Harry muttered to himself as he sat down in the War Room and resumed his studies. He waded in, opening the book his mother had left with Petunia. As he read, he concluded that the book had actually belonged to his father, who, like Snape, had made copious notes in the margins. Harry concluded that James and Sirius had experimented with almost everything in the book.

" _Not easy!_ " " _Works better if you swing the wand up to the left first_ " " ** _Doesn’t work!_** " " _Better than Protego…but hard to cast_ " " _works best non-verbal_ " There was one that caught Harry’s eye…and made him laugh. " _doesn’t work on a transformed werewolf!!!_ " When Harry finally decided to take a break, he discovered it was nearly dinnertime. He had been reading and practicing all day and didn’t realize it! It was time to get ready for his first evening session with Remus. Then he was off.

 

After a full two hours, Harry was completely exhausted. He and Remus were sitting in the classroom, with all the desks pushed aside. The time had been productive as Remus put Harry through a whole series of challenges as they discussed each spell, its applications and uses, and the proper methodology for casting it.

Somewhere along the way, Peter Pettigrew came up during their discussions so they paused to consider the spells directly related to animagus transformation, both to force transformation and to restrict or prevent it. They were easy to practice, but there was no one to practice on, and neither of them thought Minerva would really want to be the test subject so they parked the subject for later.

 

"Can you recommend any books on detection of concealment, Professor," Harry asked as they moved the desks back into place.

"There are a couple, Harry." Remus paused, grinned, and then continued. "The best one was the one your father had. I wish we still had it."

"What happened to it?"

"If I recall correctly, James was caught with it at a rather bad time, and had to hide it quickly. I think it ended up in the Room or Requirement, but I don’t think he ever went back and got it. You see, it was a book that wasn’t allowed at school, Harry." Remus grinned. "Between us, we had quite a number of those." Harry started laughing.

"Professor, my aunt gave me a book that she got from my mother. It was apparently one of those books. There was note next to one spell that said ‘doesn’t work on a transformed werewolf.’" Remus gazed at the ceiling for a moment and then started laughing with Harry.

"I suspect James and Sirius tried almost everything on me at one time or another…both because I was handy and because they were always looking for something that might make my transformations less painful. I often think they figured I was invincible while transformed." Remus stopped and looked at Harry, his eyes slightly teary. "Those were good times, Harry. Some of the best." Harry put his arm around Remus’ shoulders and squeezed.

"I understand, Pro…Remus. I wish we could all be together now, and all of you could share those good times with me." For a long time they just stood there, both alone and together in their thoughts, thinking about all the friendships that Voldemort had destroyed.

"So, Thursday night then, Harry?" He nodded, thinking this was time well spent. Remus had saved his life with the Patronus Charm, and now Harry knew he was doing it again. He didn’t know which of these spells he might need to use, but his arsenal was growing much fuller, and it allowed him to make better decisions. He said goodbye, donned his cloak, and returned to McGonagall’s office and thence home, wishing he could bring his friends with him every night.

 

On Thursday, Harry thought of something and broached the subject as soon as he arrived.

"Professor?" Remus looked at him reprovingly. "Okay…Remus. You said my dad probably hid the book you wanted in the Room of Requirement." Remus nodded. "Last year, I hid a book there too. When I conjured the room, it was full of things that had been hidden…all kinds of things. Why don’t we go have a look and see if we can find it. We might find other useful things, too." Remus hadn’t thought of that, and decided it sounded like a wonderful way to spend the evening.

"We could have Ron and Hermione and Ginny come too. The room is huge, and there’s tons of stuff in there to sort through." Remus grinned.

"I’m sure there is Harry. I can just imagine the kinds of things that have been hidden over the years."

Harry went to conjure the room and Remus quickly arrived with the rest of the gang in tow. As they walked in, there were gasps of amazement when they saw the treasure trove stored within. Remus spoke up, concerned about what they might find.

"Remember, there are likely many dangerous things here. I wouldn’t touch anything that looks like a potion. If you find something that looks dangerous or particularly nasty, sing out and we’ll all take a look." They all nodded and then started off. Harry decided he and Ginny would start at the back and work forward. Hermione and Ron plunged into the first row and Remus just picked a spot towards the middle.

In the back, in the narrow space between teetering stacks of junk, Harry went to the furthermost end and quickly exclaimed. "Look what I found here." Ginny ran over to see, but Harry simply grabbed her and some serious snogging and groping began. When they finally came up for air, Ginny spoke.

"What was it you found, Harry?" He just grinned and began molesting her again, sliding his hands under her jumper and caressing her breasts.

"Harry!" she said in mock seriousness.

"What?"

She grinned and then relented. "We need to see what’s there." Then she really grinned and pointed to her chest. "You already know what you’ll find here." Harry laughed, gave her one more kiss, and then began looking through the piles of debris.

Hermione scored first, locating a stack of books on Dark Magic hidden under a very dusty and bloody Ravenclaw scarf. " _Spells Your Mother Doesn’t Know…Dangerous Dark Arts…Duel to the Death, Strategies Your Opponent Won’t Use._ Ron, these are really terrible."

"I know, but if it was me going up against Voldemort, I don’t think I’m going to care very much." She nodded her agreement and piled them up just inside the door. When she returned, she found Ron’s nose inside another book.

"What did you find?"

"Mary Martha Wigglesbourne’s diary." He read for a moment more and then looked up. "According to this entry, there was only one boy in the seventh year she hadn’t shagged, and she thinks he was probably queer. Now she’s going to try and get the entire sixth year." Hermione scrunched her nose in disgust and pulled it out of his hands.

"There’s only one girl you need to worry about shagging," she said, and placed her hand strategically between his legs as she kissed him. "Now, back to work or you’re sleeping alone tonight." Ron took that as a threat and resumed his quest.

Remus wasn’t as focused. He walked slowly down the narrow twisted aisle between tottering cabinets, broken furniture and stacks of books. He considered what portion of the school library was actually sitting in here, unreturned for whatever reason. He picked up and fingered a bloody axe, wondering what story it had to tell. In a cabinet covered with dust, he looked at a myriad of bottles, each with some sort of potion or residue inside. There was probably enough in this room to poison the entire castle seven times over…or make every resident fall in love twice…with every other resident!

Ginny jumped and screamed when she pulled out a stuffed muggle teddy bear that immediately began growling and snarling. Harry reached over the stuffed it into a Grecian urn on the floor. They both grinned and then continued, knowing someone had a wicked sense of humor. As Hermione and Ron moved into the second row, they heard Remus explode in laughter. Shortly he called out to all of them.

"Harry, I never expected to find this." He held up a small object that everyone immediately recognized as a Golden Snitch.

"Why is that Snitch so important, Professor," Ginny asked.

"Ginny, years ago Harry’s father James used to carry a snitch with him everywhere. He would pull it out and play with it, trying to impress the girls, usually Harry’s mother Lily." Remus smiled, and suddenly looked like he was 16 again. "She always thought he was just showing off, which of course he was. Sirius always thought it was funny, and so James kept doing it."

"Why is it here, Professor," Hermione asked.

"Well, everyone knew that James had it. But no one knew where he got it. You can’t just walk into any shop and get one…for a very good reason." Harry started laughing.

"What, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Well, if you were a Seeker, and you had your own Snitch…." He couldn’t finish the explanation because he couldn’t stop laughing.

"That’s right, Harry. James was a very good seeker. He always caught the Snitch. But in our sixth year, there was a big brawl after the Gryffindor match with Ravenclaw. It seems somebody got the idea that James didn’t really catch the game snitch. He just substituted his own and after some fancy flying, claimed to have caught it."

"What happened?"

"They stopped the match, and Madam Hooch questioned James. He offered to take Veritaserum, and then he handed the Snitch he’d caught to Madam Hooch and flew off to the castle. In a minute he returned with his own Snitch…this Snitch…and proved that he hadn’t caught his own. Ravenclaw still protested the match, and finally the Ministry had to get involved. They made him produce his own Snitch and prove it was his. He showed them where he had scratched his initials into it." Remus turned the Snitch over in his hand, showing them where JP was scratched into the surface.

"In the end, they decided he hadn’t done anything wrong, but they ruled that he couldn’t keep the Snitch any more. So he hid it. I think he was always planning to return and reclaim it before he left school, but I guess he never did." Remus was amazed. It certainly wasn’t something he’d expected to find, and his discovery had taken him back to a much more enjoyable time in his life. For a few minutes, he was back in school with his friends, plotting more mischief and mayhem, reliving the best times of his life. Eventually Remus returned to the present and handed the Snitch to Harry. 

"I think your father would want you to have this, Harry. Take good care of it." Harry took it from Remus with tears in his eyes. The occasional trips into his parent’s world always reminded Harry of what he was missing, even if he’d pretty well put that part of his life away. Remus could always open the door, but he did so easily…and never maliciously. He gave Remus a hug and they all returned to the search.

It wasn’t long before Remus found the book that had started their search. Apparently James had a favorite area in the room, and they found a couple other things that he had hidden, including a book of very suggestive pictures involving witches and wizards that had everyone blushing a bit. By consensus, they left that one behind.

Eventually their pile of books had grown to nearly five feet, and Harry decided they’d found enough for one night. He compressed them down to manageable size and they left the room, ready to head for different parts of the castle. Remus departed first, and Harry pulled the rest of them together.

"I talked with McGonagall tonight. I explained that I really needed to meet with all of you again, to plan the next part of my program. She agreed to let you all come to the house this weekend. So, right after breakfast on Saturday, go to her office and you can floo out to the house."

"Harry, when to we have to come back?"

 

"Sunday night should be just fine." Ginny started to beam, knowing she would be spending some quality private time with Harry. Harry picked up the bag of books, tossed on his cloak and walked beside her down to the office. Ginny kissed him goodbye, and then headed towards Gryffindor tower. _I think I should plan something special for him…for Saturday night._ She grinned as she walked along, her mind filled with ideas.

 

On Saturday, after the usual hugs and kisses, they all walked up to the War Room, Harry and Hermione carrying several plates of snacks he had prepared, and Ron a tray of cold bottles of butterbeer. It was time for another council of war. As they each selected some things to nibble, Harry got up and reviewed the current situation. His biggest concern was the utter lack of information about the missing Horcruxes.

"Is there some way to force the issue, Harry," Ginny asked, gazing at the pictures on the wall. "Could we get Voldemort to do something that would reveal them?"

"How could you do that?" Ron asked, not really disagreeing but simply unaware of anything that would cause Voldemort to act. Then Hermione spoke up.

"Harry, the next article in the Quibbler is about what?"

"It covers the prophecy. Of course, certain parts are not included, but it basically says that he can’t beat me, and that it’s his own fault that’s true. I’m trying to make him…well, I assume he’s mad about what’s happened so far, so I’m trying to make him even madder. I didn’t talk to Draco about that, but he certainly seemed to agree when I said the Dark Lord was upset." Hermione broke in.

"I think, no matter what else he does, he still has to deal with what he already knows about the prophecy. For him, the road to power goes through Harry Potter! Until he deals with you, nothing else is really going to matter much." Ron had been thinking about other things.

"Harry, does he want to become Minister of Magic?" Harry smiled and shook his head.

"No, Ron. He’s not interested in positions or politics. The only title he wants is ‘Worlds Greatest Sorcerer Ever’ or ‘Man with the Most Power.’ He’s not about appearances, he’s all about fear. His only goal is that everyone in the magical world, and the muggle world for that matter, fears his name. He’s all about control, but his only tool of control is fear. Power and fear."

"Harry," Ginny said, "are you planning to tell him you have destroyed the Horcruxes?"

"Well, at some point I guess I am. My thought was to deal with all of them, and then lure him to someplace where he will be on the defensive. I want to fight him on my ground…on our ground! I talked with Lighthorse about it, and I want to fight him at the Ministry…in the Department of Mysteries."

"Why there?"

"Lots of reasons. First, it can be set up where he can’t apparate out, so once he’s there, he’s trapped. He’ll have to fight." Harry paused and started pointing to Tzu’s sayings. **If we wish to fight, the enemy can be forced to an engagement even though he be sheltered behind a high rampart and a deep ditch.**

"He will bring people with him, and they will have to search the different rooms." **If his forces are united, separate them.  
**

"We can set up places to trap or ambush them." **Attack him where he is unprepared, appear where you are not expected.  
**

"How do you plan to get him there, Harry?" Ron wasn’t sure Voldemort would cooperate so simply.

"He seems to be really determined to find me. So, we let it slip that I’m going to be at the Ministry doing something…maybe holding a meeting of some sort, a meeting with only a few other people. That should interest him." Hermione looked unsure, but it was Ginny who spoke first.

"Harry, if he thinks you are there, he might show up…but he’d be expecting a fight, right?" Harry nodded. "Wouldn’t it be better if we could get him there…without that?"

"I’m not sure what you mean, Ginny." She was putting her thoughts together on the fly, so what she expressed wasn’t quite coherent.

"Well…say we found something that he wanted…and we…we said _it_ was there. He might try to retrieve it, but he wouldn’t….he might not expect a…a fight." Harry nodded. That made sense.

"You mean, like the last time? He wasn’t expecting all of us, and Lucius thought we would simply back down when he threatened us?" Ginny nodded.

"Yeah. I don’t think they expected all of us to be there. And, I really think they expected you would hand over the prophecy to protect us." She stopped for a moment, and then continued. "I’ve been thinking about that a little. I really don’t think they intended to kill us, at least not in the beginning. When we started fighting, they had no choice."

"That’s crazy," Ron snorted, spilling his butterbeer on the front of his shirt. Ginny just looked at him with that _just-because-I’m-your-little-sister-doesn’t-mean-I’m-an-idiot_ look.

"No, it isn’t, Ron! Think about this. Voldemort wanted to hear the prophecy, because he figured it would tell him how to attack Harry." Everyone nodded agreement. "Okay, so if he going to get the prophecy, he probably told them…the Death Eaters…not to attack Harry until he’d heard it. I mean, what if it said something like…like…’if you kill him, two hundred more will come?’ Then he’d be in worse trouble than before. I think he wanted to hear it before he proceeded, to insure he didn’t screw up again."

Everything she said made sense. It no longer mattered, since the battle did happen and, as far as Voldemort was concerned, the prophecy was gone. But she was correct, and everyone else recognized that they still sometimes underestimated Ginny’s intellect. She had amassed more OWLS than either of the boys, and with the exception of specific grades, just as many as Hermione. She might be a year younger, but she wasn’t dumb!

"I think he still wants to hear the prophecy. Why else would he have kidnapped and killed Trelawney?" Now she’d made a point that they all agreed with. There could be no other reason for Sibyll’s death. They had started to drift and Harry refocused the discussion.

"So, you were thinking of some other reason to bring Voldemort to the Ministry. What could we use?" Everyone looked around, but no one had an immediate answer.

"Harry?" Ginny began tentatively. "What would happen if we acknowledged the Horcruxes and said they were going to be destroyed at the Ministry?" Harry looked startled.

"Ginny, the ones we know about are already destroyed," Ron injected.

"That’s true, but Voldemort only knows about the diary, right?" She started pointing at the wall. "He doesn’t know about the ring, unless by chance Snape knew and told him. He doesn’t know about the locket, because he evidently didn’t even know it had been stolen. He doesn’t know about the Sorting Hat. Only we know about all of those." Harry slowly nodded, absorbing what she had just said. Now Hermione spoke up.

"But Ginny, if we said we had those…and we were going to destroy them, he could just make more to replace them, and then we’d be out looking for new things…things we know nothing about." Harry shook his head violently.

"I don’t’ think he can make many more. There’s a limit to how many times he can split his soul and remain functional." 

"What do you mean, Harry?" Ron was puzzled.

"It’s like this, Ron. Each time he splits his soul, he tears it in two. So, the first time, when he killed Myrtle and made the diary, each piece was half…the diary got half…and he kept half. But the soul doesn’t get any bigger…it doesn’t re-grow back to original size. So the next time, when he killed his father, he split it in half again, but this time each half was only a quarter of the original soul. Does that make sense?" Ron looked up for a moment, and then nodded, completing the mental math in his head.

"So he keeps doing that, and each time the pieces get smaller and smaller. If he made all six Horcruxes, the last pieces were only about…help me, Hermione." She smiled and quickly scribbled some numbers on a piece of parchment.

"The last pieces were only…maybe about one percent of his original soul." Harry jumped right back in.

"See. So he can’t keep going forever. At some point, there’s practically nothing left to split. Slughorn thought his idea of seven was ridiculous, over and above being a bad idea in the first place. But Riddle thought it was the best idea he’d ever had. He would become immortal! If the diary was still around, he could re-generate from it, or maybe even retrieve the piece inside and still have half a soul to work with. But the diary’s gone, and he’s left with nearly nothing. In fact, all the early ones, the diary, the ring, the Sorting hat, are gone, so none of them left have a very big piece. All the big pieces are gone."

"So, you don’t think he could make more?" Hermione brought the discussion back on track.

"I think it’s unlikely he would, unless he was forced to. I also think he would want to try and recover the existing ones. There’s a certain amount of pride involved, and Voldemort is very proud. Down in the Chamber of Secrets, when I said Dumbledore was the greatest sorcerer in the world, he exploded. He said Dumbledore had been driven from the school by the mere mention of his new name. And remember, that was 16 year old Tom Riddle."

"He wouldn’t let them be destroyed without trying to recover them. He couldn’t. He’s far too proud…AND…he’d be losing face in front of his followers. ‘ ** _Harry Potter is about to destroy parts of your soul, and you’re not going to do anything about it?_** ’" They all smiled at that. If there was anything that motivated Voldemort, it was image and pride. Ginny picked it up again.

"So, if we told him we had them and they were going to be destroyed, then he would have to try and save them, right? If we said…well…maybe they were going to be pushed through the veil." They all nodded. There was silence for a moment and then Ginny spoke again. "What would he do if we only said we knew about them?" she asked. Harry thought about that and finally responded.

"It seems to me he would try to find out how much we knew. You know, maybe go check out where they are and see that they’re okay. Just because we know he did it doesn’t mean we know what they are and where they are. He probably thinks he’s so smart no one could figure it out."

"Harry," Ginny started again. "If you hinted that you knew about them, then he might send somebody to check on them, right?" Harry nodded. "We could watch those places, and then catch somebody who came. If it wasn’t Voldemort himself, it would likely be a Death Eater…it would have to be a Death Eater. Maybe we could capture somebody who would know where the others are." With that, she silenced them all. Each of them considered what she was suggesting, but Ron was the first to speak up.

"It wouldn’t work, Ginny. He couldn’t find any of them."

"Ron!" Ginny thought Ron missed the entire point. "Look. If we made him believe we knew about them, then he would be concerned…concerned that we have stolen them or disabled them or whatever. So, he responds. He has to respond! So, what would he do? He could make more…maybe! But before he did, I think he’d want to check them out and see if they’re okay. He might think that Harry’s just bluffing. It wouldn’t hurt him to check them out, and remember, he probably doesn’t think anybody knows about them. How could Harry possibly find out what they are…and where they are? The only one we know about for certain is the diary. At least, that’s what Voldemort would be thinking."

"So, he sends Greyback to check out the cup, to see that it’s all right."

"But Ginny, we don’t know where Greyback is, and we don’t know where the cup is, so what good does that do? Greyback comes back and tells him the cup is fine!"

"No, Ron. I think Ginny’s got an idea." Hermione injected, seeing where she was going. Harry was also nodding agreement. Hermione continued.

"He will want to know if the Horcruxes are still okay. Maybe Harry’s just guessing. Maybe the only thing he knows about is the diary. So…Voldemort wants to see if he really needs to do anything. He sends somebody to the cave to check out the locket. He sends somebody to his grandfather’s house to check out the ring. He can’t do much about the Sorting Hat. He sends people to…wherever…to check out the cup and the Ravenclaw thing."

"If all those people come back and report everything is fine, then he just ignores Harry’s boast and continues on with what he’s doing. If they come back and report them all missing, then he’s got other problems."

"But, that doesn’t help us find the missing ones," Ron protested.

"Maybe it does. Maybe it can."

"How?"

"Well, let’s say he sends Greyback to check on the locket. If we were there, waiting for him, then we might be able to capture him. Then maybe we could make him talk, and he might know about others." Everyone agreed with what she had suggested. "At the very worst, Greyback doesn’t return, so Voldemort is down one more Death Eater… _and_ he doesn’t find out the truth about the locket! Since Greyback doesn’t return, he’s even more suspicious!" Harry stared at the locket for a long time, trying to decide whether all of this made sense. Then he had an idea.

"I want him to find the locket," he said to no one in particular.

"What?"

"I want him to find the locket."

"Why?"

"Okay, let me go through this again. Tell me if you think I’m wrong." He got up to pace the room, thinking through what he was about to propose. "In the next article, I hint that I know about the Horcruxes. I don’t talk about how many, other than the idea that there’s more than one. Maybe I talk about the diary, just because reminding him about it will make him mad again."

"I give him enough to make him think we might have one of the others. He gets worried and decides to check on them." Harry stopped in front of the pictures and pointed as he talked. "He can’t send anybody to check on the diary. It’s dead, and he knows it. He sends somebody to the old house, to check on the ring. He sends somebody to the cave, to check on the locket." 

"But it’s not there," Ron interrupted.

 

"No! No, we put it back, because we _want_ him to find the locket. We want him to find the fake locket…with the note from Regulus! We want Voldemort to know Regulus stole the original. It will make him really mad. He will be furious!" Harry grinned as he continued. "He’s going to be much madder if he finds out one of his trusted Death Eaters took it."

"He sends somebody to check on the ring. That’s the person we want to capture." Harry thumped the picture with his hand, driving home his point. "This is the key one! We capture this one!" He moved on.

"He can’t send anybody to check on the Sorting Hat, because he can’t get anybody into Hogwarts. So, he’ll just have to pass on that one for now." Harry had reached the last two. "He sends somebody to check on these. Since we don’t know where they are," he tapped the blank paper of the last one, "or what they are, we can’t do anything about that." He stopped, taking a breath.

"Harry," Hermione asked, "can we safely get the locket back in the cave? Do you know how to do it?" Harry considered her question.

"Getting to the cave is no problem. Getting into the cave is not hard, it just requires some blood. Inside you have to find the boat, but I think I can do that. Then, since the potion is gone, all you have to do is drop the locket in the bowl." Ron spoke up.

"We could replace the potion with a poison or something. That would maybe get the person who came to check on it."

"No, I don’t want to do that, Ron. First, I’m not certain that…well, actually I am certain. There had to be another way to deal with that potion besides drinking it. Voldemort would know what it was. The only reason Dumbledore drank it was because he didn’t know any other way to get it out of there. The potion didn’t kill him, at least not right away. But he was so weak that he couldn’t have carried on alone." Harry stopped, not wanting to remember Dumbledore that way; not wanting to remember Dumbledore dying.

"No, I want whoever he sends to find the locket…and return with it. I think if we just put it in the bowl that should be enough. If the potion is missing, then maybe that will cause whoever it is to take it back to Voldemort, which is what I really want." Hermione had been quietly thinking about the conversation and now spoke up.

"Harry, you need us to go with you to replace the locket." Harry was surprised by her statement…and not immediately sure what she meant.

"Hermione, it’s not a big deal. I’ve been there before, and the inferi won’t react to a single person."

"No, Harry. You need us with you. I know probably nothing will happen, but what if it did? You need at least one other person to help you. And it would be better if there were more." Harry looked around and saw Ginny and Ron both nodding their agreement. _Well, it wouldn’t hurt to have help…just in case. I don’t think there’s much danger any more, but something could always go wrong._ Harry nodded and they went on.

"Tomorrow. We’ll do that tomorrow." With the pronouncement, Harry declared the meeting over and they began to prepare for dinner and…other things. They had a plan…a good plan. And they had a perfectly good evening in front of them.

After dinner, they decided to forgo their usual games and head straight for bed. That may have been partly because Hermione and Ginny apparently decided earlier they both wanted to play more private games tonight. During dinner, both girls made teasing references to things they were anticipating later and Harry found that Ginny wasn’t wearing a bra, a discovery that led him to wonder what else her comments might portend.

Once in their bedroom, Harry decided he had waited just about as long as he was going to and charged ahead with his own plans. After a few minutes of simple snogging, he moved on to something he had considered.

"Ginny."

"Hmmm."

"I want to try something." Ginny’s heart instantly started pounding. They were words that created an instantaneous and involuntary response.

"What?’

"Do you trust me?" Ginny snorted. Of course she trusted him. She’d trusted him with her very life often enough that she’d lost count.

"Of course I trust you, Harry." 

He grinned and started to proceed with his plans. His first move was to toss the comforter off of the bed and move the pillows aside. Then he took her left hand and pulled it towards the post in the corner, using his wand to conjure a braided silk rope that bound her wrist to the post. Before she could really react, he duplicated the feat with her other hand and Ginny was stretched out on her back, not uncomfortably just unable to move much.

"What are you doing, Harry?" He didn’t respond…at least not verbally. He did, however, move to the far end of the bed and secure her ankles, forcing her to lay flat on her back. "Harry, what are you doing," she asked, a slight amount of fear evident in her voice. Harry just grinned.

"I found this in a book, and I thought we might try it out."

"What book?" She wasn’t mad or upset. She wasn’t even scared. She was, perhaps a little uneasy, but only because she wouldn’t be able to do anything Harry didn’t allow her to do.

"This one," he said, picking up the book that Remus had found on Thursday. Ginny blushed. The page Harry was showing her was quite graphic, with a witch similarly restrained as a wizard was…well, ravaging her.

"Harry, how did you get that." He grinned.

"When you weren’t looking, I filched it and added it to the pile. Hey, it belonged to my dad, so by rights, it should be mine…right?" Ginny couldn’t quite answer that. Her mouth was stuck between a giggle, caused by his logic, and a gasp, as she watched what the wizard in the picture was doing. In any case, Harry set the book aside and gently reached out with his wand and closed her eyes.

In a moment, Ginny was in a whole new world of sensual feelings. Harry was touching her, but only with his tongue and lips. She knew how wonderful his kiss could feel, and he had certainly kissed her in many places before, but this…this was completely different…and overwhelming. He began at her neck and ears, barely touching her, his breath raising her skin to heights of sensitivity she didn’t know existed. She would wiggle and squirm, but there was no escaping his onslaught.

He moved along, pausing from time to time and place to place as he found something interesting in her responses. He discovered a very sensitive spot over her collarbone and his gentle licks almost caused an orgasm on the spot. Ginny moaned and twisted, trying to escape or trying to intensify the sensation. She couldn’t tell which because her mind was being overloaded. The fact that she couldn’t see what he was doing only made it worse (or better).

It was inevitable he would make his way to her breasts. She knew what was coming, but still couldn’t stop him. He moved his lips away and just tickled her nipples using his tongue. The slightest touch was too much, and Ginny came for the first time right then. Unfortunately, her screams only seemed to inspire him to more, and every time she thought it couldn’t get more intense, it did. Her body was completely out of control, and Harry was enjoying every minute of her torment. As their relationship had matured, he discovered that he derived his pleasure from providing hers. His own needs could wait; his turn would come later.

As he trailed his kisses across her stomach, she began to ache. She screamed for him to stop, but he ignored her, continuing his sensual assault. His kissed his way to one side and started down her leg, slowly…ever so slowly working to the inside and most sensitive skin she owned. She could feel her hormones rising even higher, and there was still nothing she could do but endure it. Finally, for the first time, Harry touched her with his hands, gently spreading her opening.

He couldn’t help but grin as his touch was greeted with the release of a veritable river of juices. With just his touch, she climaxed once again, and Harry still didn’t stop. He began exploring with his tongue, touching every bit of the bright pink tissue, listening as her breathing went from laboured to gasping. Ginny was completely primal, her brain focused solely on her sense of feel. Her arousal was the only thing, and it consumed her completely. Had she been able to notice, she would have found her hands and feet growing numb as non-essential blood usage was stifled.

Harry began to focus his touches on her growing clitoris. She screamed with every breath as wave after wave of tidal proportions buried her brain in sensations of ecstasy. Ginny’s entire body was covered with sweat as she worked harder and harder just to supply enough air to remain conscious. She had become, for lack of a better description, a living orgasm. Every motion was subordinate to her instincts; her lungs were heaving, trying to help her heart keep up.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Harry began to slow a little. As he eased off, she slowly began to recover, but the trip down from the mountain top was a long one. After several minutes she finally found she could breath slightly easier. Harry had moved his face to hers, kissing her gently over and over again and whispering to her, words she could barely distinguish, telling her how much he loved her…telling her how much he cared. His finger traced funny little circles on her stomach and breasts, finger-painting lines in the sweat that covered her skin.

Eventually, when she was almost back to the ground, Harry released he bonds and allowed her to move for the first time. She didn’t immediately realize she was free but eventually discovered her arms could move if she told them to. Without delay, she wrapped them around Harry, pulling him tight. She would never let him go. Never! She had never imagined feelings like he could generate, and what she had just endured was more than unbelievable. She thought about opening her eyes, but decided she didn’t want to, even if she could.

"I love you, Harry," she whispered, trying hard to find her voice after all the screaming and yelling. He smiled and responded in kind.

"I love you too, Ginny. I can not tell you how happy you make me." Ginny glowed, both inside and out. In a family of seven children, she thought she knew something about sharing, but Harry had just taught her a lesson she would never forget. Ever! In a room thankfully heated to very warm, the two wet naked bodies slid together, finding the complimentary curves that allowed them to merge into one…and together they slid off into blissful sleep.

 

Morning came very late in the Potter household. Finally, the two couples stirred and began the day. After breakfast Harry retrieved the false locket and replaced the note, taking care to leave it sticking out a little. He reasoned that if it didn’t appear strange, whoever came to check on it might just look and leave, and he didn’t want that to happen.

Finally there were ready to go and Harry picked up an empty butterbeer bottle and pointed his wand. " ** _Portus_**." The bottle glowed for a minute and then calmed.

"Why can’t we simply apparate, Harry?"

"I’m not sure exactly where we’re going, Ron. I mean, I’ve been there before, but I don’t know how to tell you where it is, and I don’t want you to get lost on the trip." Without further discussion, they gathered around the bottle and left for a deserted section of the coast.

"Harry, did you and Dumbledore really swim into this cove?’ Ron asked as he pulled out his wand.

 

"Yep. He just jumped right in and stroked through the tide like he did it every day." Ron just shook his head in amazement as he pointed his wand to dry his clothes. Harry walked off, headed towards the portal to the inner chamber. Hermione had located a large bottle of blood in the bags of garbage in the cellar, and Harry hoped it would appease the portal charm. If not…well, there were always other options.

Even though he knew where the portal was located, he decided to experiment with the charms that he and Remus had been reviewing. As he slowly walked past the area, he found he could sense the differences that only Dumbledore had felt before. Now that he knew where to look, it was amazing how different the rock felt when he examined it. He opened the bottle and splashed the surface. It immediately responded and the opening into the inner chamber was revealed.

"Is there any way to make sure this stays open, Harry?" Ron was concerned, hoping to insure the opening remained for them to escape.

"I don’t know of any way, Ron. You might move that rock into the way and see if that does it, but we have plenty of blood to re-open it." Ron was evidently fearful of being trapped inside, and the sight of several large spider webs just inside the cave entrance didn’t help his confidence. He took a minute to arrange some rocks as a marker, and also rolled a large stone into the portal itself.

Harry started around the shore, searching for the chain to the boat. He was having problems finding it when he considered another option. Couldn’t he simply levitate the locket and drop it in the bowl? He could, except the island in the center was still shrouded in the glowing greenish mist, so he couldn’t see the pillar or the bowl. Finally, he sensed he had found the chain and pulled. He was rewarded by a clanking sound as the chain coiled and the boat appeared once again.

"Okay. I’m going to get in the boat and ride out to the island. The lake is filled with inferi, but remember they don’t like light or fire, so a simple spell will repel them. They may not respond…they didn’t the last time we went out to the island, only when we were coming back." Harry started to get into the boat when Hermione grabbed his arm.

"Harry, one of us should do this."

"What?"

"One of us should go. I’ll go."

"What are you talking about, Hermione?"

"Harry, if something happens, if you get trapped out there for some reason, there’s no way for us to help you. You are more valuable here, where you could help if something goes wrong."

"Hermione! I…you can’t go. I’ve been there. I know what might happen. I’m better equipped to handle it."

"No, Harry! You need to stay here. If something happened, you need to continue on." Before Harry could respond, Ron butted in.

"Do you remember when we went after the stone? Do you remember the chess match? It’s the same thing, Harry. It’s the same thing all over again. We came to help you, Harry. You can’t do this alone, but at the end…with Voldemort…it has to be you. Let us help, Harry. Let us take some of the risk." Harry was about to protest when Ginny decided she been silent long enough.

"Are you going ‘all noble’ on us again, Harry? If it’s really that simple, then any of us can do it. If it isn’t, then we need you where you are most able to help fix things. That’s right here! You said Dumbledore told you the inferi wouldn’t notice you riding in the boat with him, because you weren’t of age, and your skills were not as developed as his, right?" Before he could think about what she said, he nodded. "Then it’s settled." Without another word, Ginny grabbed the locket from his hand and stepped into the boat. The others just looked at her.

"I’m the only one still underage, and all of you are more skilled than me, so they won’t notice me at all." She said it like it was the most natural thing in the world, and then she sat down and the boat started to move slowly out into the lake. Harry was stunned. And, he was afraid. _What happens if something goes wrong and I lose her? I couldn’t handle that._

"Do I just drop it in the bowl?" Ginny’s words snapped him back to reality.

"Step off the boat without touching the water. The bowl is sitting on a pillar in the middle of the island. You should be able to just drop it in the bowl. Then immediately get back in the boat and come back. The spell you will need for the inferi is ‘Inflamare.’" Ginny nodded and pointed her wand towards the direction the boat was traveling.

"Lumos," she uttered, and the light from her wand lit the water. Ron gasped and pulled back as he could see a white hand, fluttering just below the surface. The boat was almost out of sight within the mist when Ginny’s voice called out. "I’ve reached the island." They waited breathlessly for her next words.

"Okay, I’m out of the boat…and nothing’s happened so far." Again they had to wait. "The bowl is full of something, but I can’t tell what." Harry was about to yell to her when she spoke up again. "I dropped the locket in the bowl, and it sank to the bottom."

"That’s good, Ginny. Maybe the bowl refilled itself. Now, get back in the boat. Now!" Harry sounded a little frantic, but given the circumstances, that was understandable. If something went wrong now….

"Um…Harry. The boat just disappeared. It’s gone." Ginny sounded amazingly calm as she announced this new development. Harry, Hermione, and Ron were something less than calm.

"Harry, is there any other way out there?" Ron asked, worried about his little sister. Harry shook his head.

"If there is, I don’t know about it. When we touched the water, the inferi responded, so you can’t swim across without them coming after you." Harry tried to remain calm, all the while knowing that Ginny was out there stuck. "Ginny, is anything happening?"

"No. I’m just standing here. The locket is in the bowl, and nothing else is happening."

"Harry, could we levitate her out of there?"

"What, you mean just lift her up and fly her here?"

"Yeah, you know, Wingardium and then bring her over here." Ron was thinking of anything that might work.

"I don’t know, but we could try. Ginny, I’m going to try something. Just stand still." Harry looked at the island, just able to make out Ginny’s shadow through the mist. " ** _Wingardium Leviosa!_** " The spell didn’t normally cause a wand to emit anything, but they could see a trace from the wand strike the mist and rebound. Ginny didn’t move. Hermione began to squirm, unable to come up with anything that might provide a solution. Then she thought of something else.

"Harry, can you apparate to the island?"

"I don’t know. I guess, well, maybe you can. Dumbledore didn’t try, and neither did I. I could give it a shot." He stopped, and then spoke louder. "Ginny, I’m going to try something else. I need you to stand right next to the pillar." He could see her move a little. Harry closed his eyes, remembered the three D’s and moved. Suddenly he was standing very near Ginny, but with one foot in the water. As he pulled back, a ghostly white hand started to rise from the surface, and ripples appeared. Other inferi were coming to the island.

"Ginny, come here. Hold on to my arm…tight!" Without a word, she grabbed him and he moved again. In seconds, they were staggering on the shore, not far from Ron and Hermione. When they completely materialized, all of them breathed again, and then started laughing. Harry hugged and kissed Ginny as Ron and Hermione also found the moment a good time for an embrace.

"Let’s get out of here," Hermione said, and everyone agreed. The portal had closed again, but another offering of blood opened the door and they scrambled through it, not unhappy to say goodbye to the cave and the lake. Harry grabbed Ginny again and they all apparated back to the top of the cliff. Since it was handy, they grabbed the butterbeer bottle again and returned to Harry’s house, glad that this particular project was complete.


	39. Disappointments in the Dark

Chapter 39 – Disappointments in the Dark

Just before the end of January, the next issue of the Quibbler came out. Luna’s father was trying hard to anticipate his sales, but again he had to re-print. In the total absence of news from other sources, his had become the magazine of choice for news of Lord Voldemort. He did not regret for a moment his decision to pay Rita, for she had provided him enough to fund his entire retirement in just the last six issues.

**The Prophecy of the Dark Lord**

Inside, the series was nearing its climax. Given what had been reported by the _Daily Prophet_ , everyone "knew" there was a prophecy, but no one really knew what it said. Now maybe they would find out. Nationwide, everyone opened the cover to read the truth.

****

The Truth About the Prophecy of the Dark Lord

****

After his return, the Dark Lord was consumed by one overarching obsession, writes Rita Skeeter. It was a prophecy, overheard in the middle of the night, that led him to attack Harry Potter in the first place. But his knowledge was incomplete, and what he didn’t know hurt him. With that failure in mind, he became obsessed with hearing the entire prediction.

Severus Snape overheard the prophecy 18 years ago and quickly returned that night to share the news with the Dark Lord. What did he report? Unfortunately only a portion of the information. Whether he heard the rest is a matter for conjecture, but in any case, what he didn’t report was perhaps more important than what he did.

He apparently reported the first part which stated: " ** _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies_**." That much is known for certain. However, he didn’t share the remaining portion, the part of the prophecy that accurately predicted exactly what would happen next.

" ** _The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power that Dark Lord cannot know_**." Experts have evaluated this part of the prophecy and conclude that the statement " ** _mark him_** " must refer to the famous scar that Harry Potter bears, a visible mark of the Dark Lord’s attempt to kill him as a child.

As he gathered power and followers before the first episode with Potter, the Dark Lord also took steps to make himself immortal, and it may well be that these provisions helped prevent his actual death that fateful night. In any case, his attack failed, largely because he did not heed the complete message of the prophecy.

Many have asked what he might have done to become immortal. One example might be found in an event that occurred while he was "away." In a feeble attempt to return from the dead, he used an enchanted diary to force an innocent Hogwarts student to open the fabled Chamber of Secrets several years ago. Fortunately, no lasting harm was done and Harry Potter defeated him again, facing a detached portion of the Dark Lord himself.

"There are other parts out there," said Potter. "They can be defeated also." He declined to be more specific, citing his need to continue operating out of the spotlight. Thus far, the prophecy has proven true…in five attempts, the Dark Lord has been unable to defeat young Potter.

Next: How do you make yourself immortal? How do you deal with someone who is?

 

In a dark forest the full circle of Death Eaters, or rather what was left of the circle, had gathered once again. The old timers were there, although there weren’t quite as many as before. Some newer faces, or masks in this case, were also in the group. In the middle stood the Dark Lord…a very unhappy Dark Lord. For fifteen minutes he ranted, decrying the ineptitude which greeted his directions. In the end, he singled out several individuals for personal abuse.

"I asked Severus Snape to discover where Potter can be found. And did he?" There was silence. "Very well, I will answer myself. **NO!** " he roared, "He did not. He allowed himself to be captured, or perhaps turned. I do not know which, but it does not matter. He failed. **HE FAILED!** " Everyone cringed, hoping the ire of the master would be aimed somewhere else. Even Bellatrix, who normally would be happy to see Snape selected for the Dark Lord’s displeasure, wasn’t pleased. His actions might reflect on her.

"I asked Draco to find out where Potter can be found. And did he?" Again there was silence. Then he smiled. "Well, I suppose in a way he did, since Potter killed him. But did he accomplish my objective? No! He did not. But I have to admit, at least he tried."

"Now I find this!" he said, shaking the Quibbler in the air. "I have searched and worked for over a year to hear the prophecy, but have my loyal followers delivered? **NO!** I find out what it says by reading about it…in **_THE QUIBBLER!_** A low-life reporter can discover what my followers can not!" Again, everyone was cowering in fear. The Dark Lord was really not happy, and it was a good time to be somewhere else.

"The country is almost at peace. My name does not command the respect it should. Children go to school, taught by that assortment of idiots. **I AM NOT HAPPY!** " He calmed slightly and then continued. "I expect more. You have pledged me more, and I wish to collect." Now he stopped pacing and started to lecture.

"We will begin again. We will start in a different direction, something the Ministry will not expect. I shall allow the boy Potter his moment of glory. He is a nuisance…nothing more than a nuisance." There were several in the circle who sensed something was wrong. _Is he allowing Potter to get away with killing Draco? Doesn’t he care, or is he afraid that he can’t kill Potter? What does the prophecy mean? What is the power that the Lord can not know?_ The Dark Lord looked around quietly, searching his followers for doubt.

"You disagree, Rudolphus?"

"No, my Lord."

"YOU LIE! Your thoughts betray you. **_Crucio!_** " Lestrange flew into the air, landing in a scrabbling heap as he screamed in agony. "Do not doubt me. NEVER DOUBT ME!" The Dark Lord lifted his wand and Rudolphus flopped into a broken heap, his chest heaving from the pain of the spell.

"And you, Crabbe. You too have doubts." Crabbe fell to his knees, his hands outstretched in supplication.

"No, my Lord. Never!"

" ** _Crucio!_** " Again the forest rang with screams.

"I know better. You can not hide your weakness, Crabbe." He moved on around the circle, testing each of them in turn. Finally, he returned to the center and spoke again to the group.

"Alecto, Amycus, Peter…you three will stay. The rest of you may go. I will contact each of you with your new tasks." The hooded figures quickly nodded and the forest was filled with pops and swishes as they disapparated quickly, glad to be away from the danger they sensed in a master displeased. Very shortly there was only the Dark Lord left, along with four of his followers.

"Bella, is there something you wished to discuss?"

"No, my Lord. I simply thought you might need me to stay."

"No, Bella. I have some special things to discuss with some of my followers. I wish that you return and continue your efforts to locate the Potter boy." She had been dismissed. He was going to discuss some other plan and she wasn’t being included. She had been shoved to the sidelines, left to pursue a project which the Dark Lord had said no longer really mattered. _He has always trusted me above all others, and now he wants me to leave._

"Is there a problem with my instructions, Bella?" the Dark Lord said conversationally.

"No, my Lord. None," she responded and turned away. _He’s sending me away._ The Dark Lord watched as she left, sensing her thoughts. She was dangerous, and he knew he needed to keep a better eye on her. Then he turned his attention to the group.

‘Peter, you may wait for a moment," he said, drawing the Carrows away for a quick private chat. In a moment he returned to Peter.

"Peter, I have a small job for you do to, one that you are uniquely qualified to handle." Pettigrew nodded, waiting to hear more. "Do you remember our trip to the house of my father?" Peter nodded. "Good, because I need you to visit it once again. There is something I want you to find."


	40. The Rat in a Trap

Chapter 40 – The Rat in a Trap

While their plan was carefully conceived, Harry was the first to acknowledge that it might not work. He had no real idea if his efforts to anger Voldemort were working, and therefore no inkling of what Voldemort might be thinking. What little feedback he had came from his encounter with Draco, and that was limited to facial expressions…not the best indicator of reality. On top of that, he knew almost nothing about Draco’s relationship with Voldemort, so he didn’t really know how much Draco knew.

The best thing Harry had going was his knowledge of Voldemort’s responses from earlier encounters, both firsthand and in the memories of others. The Tom Riddle that Dumbledore met at the orphanage was proud, arrogant, and self-assured…at least until Dumbledore took him down a peg or two. The Tom Riddle he met in the Chamber of Secrets was proud….and volatile. The Voldemort he met in the cemetery was again mercurial and self-obsessed. And the Voldemort at the Ministry was more of the same, unable to fathom that others might hold beliefs or values different from his own. Harry thought he had attacked the most vulnerable aspect of Voldemort’s existence, but that was yet to be confirmed by anything factual.

Harry had also concluded that Voldemort would not act until the evening. He was, after all, a creature of the night. He preferred darkness, when the soul of the normal human was more easily frightened. Based upon this assumption, Harry spent the day _The Quibbler_ was released studying as usual. He began to read his father’s book on concealment, immediately understanding some of the things he had seen throughout his life.

Back when Harry first went to Hogwarts, in one of his first personal adventures, he had discovered the mirror of Erised. While visiting the mirror, Dumbledore had spoken with him, suddenly appearing within the room. Now he found the incantations that had made Dumbledore’s presence invisible, a process made possible by spell rather than a cloak. As Harry practiced, he found he could invoke the same condition, not every time, and not completely effective, but nevertheless useful. In the afternoon he took a short nap, knowing that sleep might become a precious commodity in the next few days.

As the sun was beginning to drop, Harry packed some things for his journey. He considered that he could sit for days, waiting for something that wasn’t going to happen. _It doesn’t matter. I still think it’s a good idea. If it pays off, that’s great. If it doesn’t, I didn’t lose anything important._ Somehow it just felt right, so Harry went with it. He picked up a small hamper in the kitchen and filled it with some food…things that would provide nourishment without cooking. As a lark, he had purchased a whole case of Mars bars, his personal favorite during his muggle childhood. _I don’t think I ever had this many…not in all my years at the Dursleys._ The whole case went into the basket, along with several plastic bottles of water. Finally, he was ready. He dressed very warmly and headed out, heading for a place he had only visited once.

 

As a place to visit, Little Hangleton had little to recommend it. Whatever it might have once been had now declined into a collection of somewhat rundown cottages, a few shops, and a couple of pubs. The once-fine Riddle house was a ruin, still standing proud on the hill, but clearly in decline. The Hanged Man, the center of village life, was now unlikely to have more than a few patrons. In general, life and progress had simply passed the place by and what children that remained couldn’t wait to grow up and leave.

Harry Potter didn’t know the place well, having seen only three sites in the area. Of those, he had only visited one. What he knew of the Riddle house came from a dream, his knowledge of the Gaunt house from a pair of memories, and his only firsthand knowledge from a night in the local cemetery he’d just as soon forget. In summary, it wasn’t a place he wanted to go. Except for tonight. Tonight he wanted to be there more than anywhere else. Well, maybe he’d rather be somewhere with Ginny, but these days that was kind of a given.

He wasn’t exactly certain where the Gaunt house had been, but he had reviewed both of the memories before leaving the house, so the lay of the land was somewhat familiar and it was still light enough to navigate using some landmarks. After a few minutes of wandering, he found a large tree that provided a reference and he walked down the lane and then headed into the woods, taking a pathway that was severely overgrown. At the end, he found a pile of stones and boards that had once housed the ancestors of Tom Riddle. Harry had arrived.

In the memory of Bob Ogden, Harry had seen a dirty, three room shack well into the advanced stages of decay. Now that another 50 or so years had passed, it had almost returned to nature completely. The dirty stone walls that defined the general outline still stood, but only to support the vines and nettles growing over them. From the inside it was possible to look up and see open sky almost everywhere, assuming you could navigate through the debris and plant growth. At one end, in a bedroom Harry had not seen within the memory, he found the remnants of human existence…a chair, a broken-down bedstead, and what was probably a chest of drawers. Above this room, most of the rafters were still in place, although only a small section of the tiles remained. The house of Gaunt was indeed…gaunt.

The sun was nearly down, but before it grew dark Harry looked around, careful not to disturb the plants and moss growing inside the house. He did not want his presence detected before the time was right. Much as he wanted to, he declined to walk around seeing if he could sense the residual magic. Whatever he learned would be offset by leaving evidence of his presence. The third room, which had once been a bedroom and bathroom, was the best place to hide, and Harry moved in.

By doing a very minimal amount of "cleaning" he created a little place where he could sit comfortably and remain out of whatever breeze might blow. A small patch of roof remained, providing some cover should it start to rain, and the proximity to what was left of the loo promised some personal comfort. He settled in, pulled his cloak over his head, and began to study the house. As he began to watch, he pulled out his wand, both to have it handy and to charm the cloak into providing a shield against a noise escaping should he fall asleep and snore.

Harry had considered many possibilities. First, it was entirely possible that nothing would happen, that Voldemort simply wouldn’t rise to the bait. Harry hadn’t handicapped the odds, but he really thought this unlikely. Voldemort _had_ to respond, if only to confirm that Harry was bluffing. As Harry saw it, the article spoke of things which could threaten the most basic needs of Voldemort, namely his desire to be immortal…and he couldn’t allow that to happen!

Another possibility was that Voldemort himself would show up, perhaps in the company of Death Eaters. Harry rated that very unlikely. Voldemort had turned his back on his heritage, even the magical side of it. Proud as he was, he must have been embarrassed to return here, seeing the filth and poverty his mother had endured growing up. No, the last thing Voldemort would want is to be reminded of his humble roots…not when he could simply say he was a descendant of Salazar Slytherin! And bringing other Death Eaters here…where he would have to explain his humble background? That wasn’t ever going to happen. Never!

So, having excluded the two extremes, Harry focused on the middle. He would send one or more Death Eaters here, expecting a simple excursion to confirm that something that could not happen…hadn’t. There was no way Harry Potter could have found out about the ring, and even if he did, he would not know where to look to find it. Voldemort was certain no one could do that. The only way the ring could be disturbed would be some muggle deciding to build on this property, and the anti-muggle charms he cast long ago would effectively prevent that from happening.

So, Harry reasoned, he would likely see a Death Eater, possibly two, but more likely one. The big question unanswered was…who. Harry ran through the mental catalog of those he knew. It would most likely be someone from the old group, not a newcomer. A newcomer wouldn’t be trusted with a mission like that, and assuming one of the old guard knew about the Horcrux, that would be the person to send. So, who knew?

Bellatrix? She might. She was part of his inner circle, to the degree he trusted anyone. Rudolphus? Another good possibility. Harry didn’t know him well, having only seen him once at the Ministry. Crabbe? Goyle? No, Harry thought, both of them were too dim to carry out a mission like this. They would more likely be used as storm troopers, simple cannon fodder to throw at a problem which might well result in their deaths. No big loss!

Greyback? That possibility concerned Harry the most, but he discovered that he had an ally already in place. As the sky darkened, Harry discovered it was a full moon. Greyback wouldn’t be trusted with a mission like this when he would transform at any moment. If it was tonight, Greyback wouldn’t be the visitor.

What about the others? Rookwood? Harry didn’t know Rookwood at all. He’d seen the picture in the _Prophet_ , back when they all broke out of Azkaban, but other than that…and one excursion into Voldemort’s mind…the man was a cipher; a complete enigma. Harry did think that Rookwood might be the most dangerous if the final confrontation was held at the Ministry since he knew the territory as well as anyone having worked there.

Who else? Snape was gone…Dolohov was gone…Avery and Nott were gone. Pettigrew? Of all those that Harry knew personally, Pettigrew was the most intriguing possibility. Harry knew he had been in the area before, so it made some sense to send him. He also had the built-in advantage of being an animagus, so evading discovery might be easier. At that thought, Harry looked out into the main room. With all the plant life and other debris on the floor, a rat could easily scamper about nearly undetected. But there was a catch, and Harry believed it was a big catch. Peter couldn’t perform magic while transformed.

The other thing that Harry considered was that he really wanted Peter. Peter Pettigrew, the man who sold his parents to Voldemort, the man that Harry had saved from death only to be betrayed again, the man who killed Cedric right down the road that night…yeah, Harry wanted Peter. It was personal, and that made it even more important.

Gradually, the light of the sun completely disappeared and the moon provided what illumination was necessary. Harry took a sip of the Seeing Draught he had brewed, allowing his eyes to do much better in the darkness and then settled in to wait. Slowly his senses became accustomed to the night noises…the little flutters of the bugs and bats, the occasional hoots of the owls, and the scurrying noises of the rodents on the forest floor. At some length, he could hear the noises from way down the road at the pub. The wind brought the sounds of muggle activity…the periodic banging of doors and the hollering of people with a little too much spirit inside them. Harry continued to watch, nibbling something from time to time, partly to stay awake. 

 

Peter Pettigrew was quite used to his existence in the backwater of Voldemort’s world. He was actually very comfortable living there. As a wizard perceived to have limited skills and little bravery, he was unlikely to be asked to do anything very dangerous. His function as a combination butler/manservant didn’t bother him in the least because it kept him out of the fire, and that, in Peter’s mind, was a good thing. The years he spent as a pet rat certainly had been reasonably pleasant, and now he was little more than a pet once again. He performed his tasks simply and without complaint. In return, Voldemort seldom asked for anything beyond basic comforts. Now that Snape was gone, Peter was even more content.

Even the task he had been given was simple. He was unlikely to encounter anyone other than the muggles who lived in the area. He had been to the Riddle house twice before. The first time they had been briefly interrupted by the old muggle, but that was a problem easily resolved. The second trip was one Peter would rather forget. Even though he actually liked his new hand, the steps he went through to receive it were not pleasant. Still, he had carved himself a rather secure niche in the social structure of the Dark Lord’s followers, and that was something even Bellatrix and Snape hadn’t done.

Tonight was just a little trip to the countryside, he told himself. A visit to the forest where he could be just another rat if need be. For months he’d done that in Albania, and now he would simply do it again. If Voldemort was correct, he would be back early, in time for a comfortable night in a warm bed.

 

For Harry, the clock was moving slowly. He wanted to stay awake, but his mind said sleep was a more normal function for this time of the day. He was just about to doze off when he heard something…different. The field mice made little squeaky noises as they wandered amongst the rotted leaves and fallen vegetation. But this sound was different. It sounded…bigger. He quickly looked around, searching for the source of the sounds he detected.

Off to one side Harry saw a rat moving though the leaves, scattering the smaller rodents as they deferred to his larger stature. He seemed familiar with the area, darting quickly from one place to another with purposeful rushes of movement. Harry picked up his wand and quietly spoke. Beyond pausing briefly to see where the whispered noise came from, the rat behavior was unchanged. Eventually he moved on, leaving the house behind as he headed towards some unknown destination.

A little later, another sonic change brought Harry’s mind quickly to attention. Although he never saw the animal, it was clearly larger than the denizens of the forest floor. It might have been a feral cat, or even something larger, but it seemed content to continue its nocturnal activity elsewhere and left as quickly as it arrived, leaving the area in possession of the little furry things once again.

Just before midnight, Harry got up and relieved himself, taking a moment to stretch his muscles and flex a bit. He had never realized just how tiring sitting could be. _How can you get tired from doing nothing? Doesn’t make sense._ He walked a few steps, stretched up and then reached down to his feet, bending his back and limbering a little. Finally, he resumed his seat and continued his watch.

Suddenly, something occurred to him. What if Voldemort didn’t read _The Quibbler_? Was all this for naught? Had he been completely wasting his time with the articles? He quickly concluded that wasn’t likely. Even if Voldemort didn’t get the news personally, someone would point it out to him. He had to be better connected to the world than that, especially when the information was a personal affront to him. As quickly as he considered the idea, Harry discarded it. Voldemort had to know…the only question was what he would do about it.

About two o’clock, give or take a few minutes, Harry awakened again. There was something that tingled in his senses, although he couldn’t identify it…an alarm that sounded deep within his brain. He took inventory, flexed his fingers and then wrapped them around his wand. Through his cloak he could see the main room clearly. The moon had risen to its zenith now, and the bright white light was coming nearly straight down into the moldy ruin. For the first time, Harry noticed the old cabinets that had comprised the kitchen area. They had never been much, and certainly were less now, but there was something about them that caught his eye.

As he looked closer, he saw movement. At first he thought it was just a shadow…a tree limb swinging in the breeze and occulting the moonlight from time to time. But it wasn’t. The air was still and the light unchanging. Then he saw it. A large rat, moving slowly, deliberately. _It doesn’t move like a rat. Rats move quickly. They dash from cover to cover. They scurry. This one doesn’t. Why? Is it Peter?_

Harry decided to wait for a bit. He did not know where the ring had been hidden originally. All Dumbledore had said was he found it in the ruins of the house. If this is Peter, should I force him to transform? _He’ll have to transform himself if he wants to search for the ring using magic. Should I wait?_ Harry watched as the rat moved about, hopping down from the cabinets and onto the dirt floor, walking here and there, seemingly without a destination in mind. _I need the element of surprise._

Harry slowly stood and pointed his wand, speaking rather quietly. The rat began to quickly swell, growing rapidly into a man Harry had seen before. Not waiting for his reaction, Harry tossed the cloak aside and fired a quick series of spells, preventing Peter from transforming again, binding him in place, and preventing him from disapparating to leave.

"Good Evening, Peter. It’s been a long time." Pettigrew was clearly in shock as Harry walked into the room, picking up the wand he had dropped and snapping it in half. After throwing the halves out of the house in different directions, Harry turned to face the terrified little man. "I rather hoped it would be you who came, Peter. We have much to talk about." Pettigrew began to quiver, recognizing he was in serious trouble. With a nervous laugh, he spoke.

"Harry. It’s so good to see you," he began, his fear evident in every word. "What are you doing here?" Harry just laughed.

"Cut the crap, Peter. I’m the last person you wanted to see again. But that’s really neither here nor there." Harry considered what he wanted to do…and where he wanted to do it. What little courage Peter had completely collapsed. Had he not been bound by the spells, he would have fallen into a spineless pile on the grimy dirt floor.

"Wh…why are you here, Harry?"

"I think you know why I’m here, Peter. If not…well…it doesn’t really matter, does it?"

"Wha…what are you going to do, Harry?"

"I haven’t completely decided yet, Peter."

"Are you going to ta…ta…take me to the Ministry?"

"No, I see no reason for that, Peter. We’re going to have a little talk. And then, depending upon what you tell me, I’ll decide what happens next." Harry went over to the hamper and pulled out a small corked bottle. "First, you’re going to drink this."

"What…is it?"

"Just something to calm your nerves, Peter. You need to drink and then we’re going to go somewhere else.

"Wh…wha…where are we going?"

"Somewhere special, Peter. Somewhere where we can talk without being interrupted." Without further ado, Harry pulled the cork out of the top of the bottle and poured the contents into Peter’s mouth. He swallowed and quickly became groggy. Harry put his cloak and everything else he’d brought in the hamper and took out an empty water bottle. After a quick spell, he grabbed the hamper, looped the handle under his arm, and grabbed the bottle. With his other hand he grasped Peter Pettigrew and then counted to three. With a swish they left Little Hangleton behind.

Back at Grimmauld Place, Harry quickly organized an extra bedroom into an interrogation cell, casting spells to insure that Peter wouldn’t be leaving with out Harry’s approval. Only in his wildest dreams had he believed that he might capture Pettigrew…dead or alive, and now everything had played out perfectly. He didn’t know what all Peter might know, but he was about to find out, and it would exceed his most optimistic daydreams.

Harry put Peter on the bed and carefully dropped three drops of Veritaserum on his tongue, allowing him to swallow. " ** _Ennervate!_** " A very groggy Peter Pettigrew came back to life. 

"Can you hear me, Peter?"

"Yes."

"Now, tell me why were you in Little Hangleton tonight?" Peter took a deep breath and then began.

"The Dark Lord said he was concerned. He spoke about information that was in a magazine. He didn’t tell me exactly what it meant, but he wanted me to check for a ring that he left at the house where his grandfather used to live. He told me where to find the house and said I should go there and see if the ring was still there."

"Did he tell you what the ring was?"

"No. He just said it was special. He said it was disguised. He gave me a spell to help find it."

"Did he tell you why he wanted you to check on it?"

"He said there was a chance that it wasn’t there anymore, and he needed to know for certain." So far, the information was pretty much what Harry would have expected. Then he decided to ask something else.

"Did Voldemort ask you the check any other places…for other things?"

"No. But he talked to the Carrows about doing something just before he talk to me, so they might have gone somewhere."

"Has Voldemort ever asked you to do something like this before?"

"No."

Harry paused to consider what he had learned. Apparently his article had done what he hoped it would. Voldemort was concerned enough to send people out to check on things. _What do I know? Nothing, really. I suspect the Carrows were sent to the cave, so that means nothing other than Voldemort will know about the locket soon._ Harry decided to head in a different direction.

"Has Voldemort ever talked to you about anything else special? Something else like the ring?" Peter didn’t immediately answer, and Harry wasn’t certain why. _Doesn’t he know? Maybe he can’t remember. I don’t know enough about how Veritserum works._

"He showed me a brooch one time. It was very old and he said it used to belong to Rowena Ravenclaw. He said she had received it from a Scottish wizard named Myrddin…as a reward for locating Hogwarts in the north, near his home. I don’t know why he had it, but it seemed very important to him."

Harry’s heart began to beat faster. He could hardly contain his emotions. He had found the missing Horcrux! No, not really. But, he thought, I know what it is I’m looking for, and that’s something. He got up and moved around the room, trying to work off the adrenaline that was coursing through his veins. _How much does he know? Is Peter, the little nothing, the key to the whole thing? Can he possibly have the answers? Why?_

Several hours, and two trips to the bathroom later, Harry was exhausted. His emotions were similarly spent. Peter had detailed the hours before Voldemort headed out to kill his parents…and the hours immediately following! Harry was completely overloaded with information, and he needed to completely re-write his battle plan. Things he could never have imagined were now things he must deal with. He was emotionally drained. Peter had brought his parents back to life…allowing him…no, forcing him, to re-lived their final hours in a way he found very disturbing.

After he put Peter to sleep for the indefinite future, he sat in the War Room, just staring at the walls. Voldemort was dead…once. He wasn’t any more, but he had been. And now Harry knew more about his own visit to his parent’s home. He needed Ginny…desperately! He wanted his friends…all of them. He retrieved his mirror, but Ginny was no where to be found right now. Finally, after checking the security surrounding Peter Pettigrew yet again, Harry Potter drank a small portion of Sleeping Draught and went to bed, knowing more about his coming tasks than ever before. He knew he’d need his rest.


	41. The Loved and the Un-loved

Chapter 41 – The Loved and the Un-loved

Harry Potter sat in the War Room, just looking at the pictures that surrounded him. He was still struggling to come to grips with information that Peter supplied. If it hadn’t been for the Veritaserum, he would be questioning how much of what he said was true. The fifth Horcrux, Voldemort’s death, the story of what happened at his home years ago all seemed surreal…bordering on unbelievable. In a different way, it was almost as befuddling as the night long ago when Hagrid had appeared out of the storm, announcing Harry was a wizard.

Try as he might, he still couldn’t quite comprehend that Peter was the source of such information. Peter, the little man who was always sucking up…the weakest of the four marauders…was suddenly the key to…everything. In his wildest dreams, Harry hadn’t imagined that Peter would know such things. It all made perfect sense, but at the same time made no sense at all. Peter, the rather poor wizard, seldom asked to do much important, had been standing in just the right places at the right times…his one claim to fame parleyed into a diamond mine full of information…sparkling stones at every turn!

Finally, Harry focused on the tasks at hand. First and foremost, he needed to do something with Peter. He couldn’t hold him forever at the house. Without making any final decision, he grabbed a piece of parchment and scribbled a quick note. Calling to Hedwig, he dispatched her with the letter.

Next he took a moment to write another letter. It was just a single line, but he knew it would make others feel more comfortable to know he was safe. It was a carefully written note that could pass through the Ministry monitors without raising much interest.

__

Dear Ginny

__

I am back home and safe…being visited by Scabbers.

__

Roonil Wazlib

__

He turned to Fawkes and asked him to make a quick trip to Hogwarts. In a flash of flame, the bird disappeared and Harry moved on to other things. He conjured a simple drawing and replaced the question mark of the sixth Horcrux with something more concrete…a broach whose whereabouts were unknown…and now perhaps quite unimportant.

He contemplated other things, trying to put Peter’s revelations into their proper slots, examining what they meant and what impact they had on his plans. Eventually he pulled out the outline he had created and started editing things, adding some new steps and eliminating others. As he worked, Hedwig returned with an answer. Lighthorse wanted to meet with him. Now! Harry checked on Peter, sealed the room yet again, and then left for the café.

 

"What do you want to do with him, Harry?" Harry’s anger about what Peter had revealed quickly rose to the fore.

"I know what I’d like to do with him, but that’s not…well, that’s something I think the Wizengamot should decide. Later." Harry paused, and then continued. "I think the best thing would be to say nothing. Act like nothing happened at all. Keep Voldemort confused and in the dark." Lighthorse nodded his agreement.

"So, if he doesn’t know, he won’t be able to react appropriately?"

"Something like that. The more unknowns he has to deal with, the more he’s going to make bad decisions. Peter says he’s really been angry lately, and I’d like to think that we have helped that happen. Draco’s death probably doesn’t mean much to him, but not knowing what Snape might be saying has got to be bothering him, not because Snape knew all that much, but because Voldemort has a real thing about loyalty. And when he finds out that the locket was stolen by another of his trusted Death Eaters, that’s going to be another thorn in his side." Lighthorse agreed.

"For years, I always thought that Voldemort was calm and very analytical. When I’ve seen him in memories…when he was younger, I got the impression that he was calculating. He always had thought through his actions in advance, planning each step. Now I think maybe he’s more mercurial. That might be because he only has a little piece of his soul left, but it also might be because he’s being actively stalked and attacked…something that’s never happened before." Lighthorse nodded his agreement, and Harry went on.

"The Ministry has never attacked him, at least not directly. You’ve…well, sorry. I didn’t mean that personally." Lighthorse smiled and nodded his understanding. "Well, the Aurors have always been looking for him and willing to fight those that they could find, but now he’s in a different situation. He sees the results, but he doesn’t know what’s happening. At least, I think that’s what he’s doing. Something is different, and he doesn’t know what it is…or how to fight it. Peter spoke a lot about him being mad. That’s the way I want him. I want him to jump without thinking first."

"So, how close are we, Harry? How soon does it happen?"

"I have some other things to check on, but I think the next issue of The Quibbler could be the trigger. How fast can you react?"

"I’d like a couple days or so, but it doesn’t really require much advance notice. We need to consider what to do with the Minister. You know, given his background, he’s going to want to be there. I don’t think I can do this without letting him know first."

"Yeah, I figured that would happen. I suppose it doesn’t hurt anything. After all, he was an Auror, and another body can’t hurt. What happens if he gets hurt or killed?"

"If he chooses to be there, he takes his chances. I can’t detail people to protect him…not in a brawl like this could become. I don’t have enough extra bodies to make some of them his personal bodyguards. I’ve got three people assigned all the time to the Muggle Prime Minister." Lighthorse shook his head, acknowledging the heavy load that Voldemort was putting on his department. Harry just nodded. Voldemort had a way of making everyone’s life more stressful.

"Harry, let me know as soon as you decide, and we’ll figure out the specifics." Harry nodded.

"Do you want me to bring Pettigrew to you?"

"Yeah, I suppose you better. Can you give me a couple hours?"

"Sure. I’m not really in that much of a rush. I’d just like to get him out of my house." Lighthorse smiled. That made perfect sense. "Why don’t you…no. Why don’t you bring him to the Department of Mysteries and I’ll meet you there. Theo can help me insure no one else knows." Harry nodded. "In two hours then."

 

Row 97 in the Hall of Prophecy seemed crowded. Lighthorse and Arcanum were both waiting when Harry arrived. Peter was almost asleep from the potion Harry had administered and offered no resistance, but he was still a certain amount of dead weight, regardless of his mental state. After Lighthorse took off with his new charge, Arcanum left and Harry donned his cloak. He quietly walked through the Hall of Time, merely glancing at the various articles on the shelves. He was here…he had time…he wanted some answers.

The door to the Chamber of Love opened reluctantly again, and Harry was back in a very private world once again. He removed his cloak and set it on one of the desks. He knew where to start, he just had no idea where to go from there. What would the ball reveal? After considering his thoughts for a minute, he picked up his wand and pointed at the ball. "Harry Potter," he said quietly.

For the first time, the ball didn’t rotate. It simply started to bulge, and Harry decided it was just still in the same position where he last left it. The bulge grew and grew until individual lights were easily discernable, his own glowing bright blue in the middle. As he looked he was still confused. There were many threads, running in many directions. Most ran directly to other lights, but at least three of them ran…well, they appeared to run into the middle of the ball. Either they pointed to a light on the other side, or they simply…ran into the darkness.

Harry sat down on the top of the desk and tried to reason through what he was seeing. There was a green thread, just one green one, which was very thick. It led to a light not too far away. He could also see a complete web of threads running from that light. It was the only green thread that led to or from Harry. There were many many blue threads. A couple of them were much thicker than the others, and one of them was actually sort of half blue/half green. _That’s odd. I wonder what a combination of colours mean._

There were a couple of pink threads, which led to lights that were side by side. Of the three threads that led into the center of the ball, two were orange, and one was yellow. _The colours must mean something. What is their purpose? Do they define the relationship? Why are there so many? I don’t love that many people? Hell, I don’t even **know** that many people._

After allowing his thoughts to ramble for a few minutes, Harry began to settle his mind into a more organized evaluation. _Different colours mean different things. Okay, so there’s only one green one…and it’s real thick. That must be…Ginny! Well, that makes sense. And it’s the thickest one. Yeah, that would be right._ Harry wondered if there was a way to confirm his suspicion.

On a hunch, he pointed his wand and spoke again. "Ginny Weasley." At first, he wasn’t sure it would work because he hadn’t released the ball from his first spell. But it did work. The bulge shifted very slightly and as he watched, the light at the other end of the green thread moved to the center and started glowing blue while his own slid off to the side a little. _Okay, so green means…well, I don’t know what it means, but it’s showing my love for Ginny._

He brought the ball back to himself and started looking at the other threads. There were more blue threads than any other colour. Two of them were very thick, and one had that green colour too. _Are those my friends? Are those two Ron and Hermione?_ After some more work, he discovered they were. The solid blue one went to Ron, and the bi-coloured one went to Hermione. Harry realized he could stare at the ball forever, finding all his friends and what the ball thought of them.

Harry continued to study the pattern, trying to decipher the meaning in the other colours. In the end, he gave up, assuming that the meaning was there if he wanted to spend forever trying different ideas. There didn’t seem to be any way to ask the ball who a light represented, so he couldn’t follow a thread and get a name. That might have made things easier. Eventually he got tired of looking at himself and decided to do the research he really needed to do. He released the ball and then asked the question he was really there to answer.

"Lord Voldemort," he said quietly. At first, the ball did nothing, and then it began to spin, slowly at first and then faster. As Harry watched, the ball seemed to turn every possible direction, changing its axis again and again. After a full minute it stopped, but there was no bulge…no light glowing bright blue. The sphere simply stopped turning and sat quietly. _Maybe he’s not there under that name. Maybe I have to use his real name._

"Tom Riddle." Again the sphere commenced its wobbling spin. Several times it slowed, as if it had found the spot it wanted, but each time it sped up again. Finally, just as before, it stopped…and still nothing else happened. _What am I doing wrong? Why won’t it show me? Maybe…maybe there’s more than one Tom Riddle. That shouldn’t matter…surely there’s more than one Harry Potter._

"Tom Marvolo Riddle." The sphere came to life a third time, moving very deliberately…and much slower. For nearly five minutes Harry watched. _It’s thinking. It’s going real slow, looking at every light. Why can’t it find him?_ Eventually the ball stopped, and still nothing happened. _Is it broken?_ In desperation, Harry tried something else.

"Hermione Granger." The ball turned over and stopped. The surface immediately began to bulge and Harry could see Hermione’s light glowing bright blue. There was a thick green thread, leading to a nearby light, and an equally thick blue/green thread, leading to another light. Harry knew where those had to go, so he released the ball and leaned back, lying on the desktop with his legs dangling over the edge.

__

Why can’t it show me Voldemort? Why won’t it?

__

An hour later, Harry Potter returned to his home. He had learned a lot about how to read what the ball was saying, but in actuality, he had learned almost nothing. At least nothing that would help him in the coming fight. At least that was what he thought.


	42. Hearts and Flowers - part 1

Chapter 42 – Hearts and Flowers

The wintry month of February started with a bang. Harry had a whole new list of things to consider and information to process. It was almost as if he was back at the beginning all over again. As he contemplated everything Peter had revealed, he kept altering his plans, trying hard to plug the new information into the existing structure. Sometimes it fit perfectly, fleshing out a previously empty space on the canvas. Other times, it required him to create a whole new drawing, since the old one didn’t include space for what he now knew.

The idea that Voldemort had died wasn’t really new. But everything he’d learned up to the point where Peter said otherwise was suddenly wrong. His knowledge of the situation began clear back with Hagrid…over 6 years ago. " _Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Most of us reckon he’s still out there somewhere…too weak to carry on."_ Hagrid had been more right than he knew, Harry thought.

Lucius gave no hint of it, and Harry had just assumed it was the sort of thing Lucius would know. As he thought back to that night in the cemetery, he realized that Lucius probably didn’t know. " _Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of your whereabouts…._ " Voldemort had accepted his statement, and as Harry thought more about it, he decided it was probably true. For whatever reason, Lucius didn’t know. _He probably didn’t know because Peter didn’t tell him. He might have learned of it if Peter hadn’t run into Sirius and promptly disappeared for years._

On the first Monday of the month, Harry headed to Hogwarts for his evening class with Remus. He had decided that he would keep his capture of Peter quiet for now, limiting the information to his immediate friends until he answered some remaining questions. Since he had told Remus almost everything else, he decided he would also share this knowledge. However, he wasn’t quite ready to share the knowledge of his parents last hours. As painful as it was for Harry, he knew it would hit Remus hard also. One of his closest friends had betrayed two others…and Remus had been nearby when it happened!

As Harry prepared to head to Hogwarts, another meeting had just started…some distance away.

 

"Amycus, what is this?" Voldemort was sitting at a table when the Carrows returned.

"That is the locket we found. There is a piece of parchment sticking out of it, and we though you should check to see that it was all right." Initially Voldemort was displeased. He didn’t want them to bring the locket back, simply check that it was still there. Now, he was confused. _What is this? It’s not Slytherin’s locket. What was it doing there?_

Slowly, the Dark Lord picked up the locket, carefully examining the chain and the body before opening it. "This is not Slytherin’s locket," he said as he extracted the note. Both Amycus and Alecto could see his expression change as he read the words on the page. When he looked up his face was contorted, twisted by his anger into a rage they could not understand. The Dark Lord was very mad, and they immediately feared for their lives. Evidently they had returned with bad news, and people who brought bad news to the Dark Lord soon found he might indeed shoot the messenger!

For a moment they just sat, while the Dark Lord regained his control. "Was there any sign that anyone else had been there?" They could see he was trying to restrain his raging anger as he spoke.

"The boat was left out by the island. We had to pull it back to the shore, but otherwise everything was as you described it," Alecto offered, hoping that they were not in the immediate line of fire.

"I see. Well, it seems as if we have a problem…a new problem. I shall have to think about this." The Dark Lord looked up, his face calm but his red eyes flaming. "You have done well. You may go." The brother and sister immediately turned and left, not wanting to be around when the rage inside the Dark Lord was unleashed.

 

After his lesson with Remus, Harry returned to Minerva’s office, surprised to find her still at her desk. He had hoped to talk with Dumbledore and bring him up to speed on the recent developments, but he didn’t want to have that conversation with others present.

"Hello, Harry. How are you doing?" she asked, looking up from a parchment she was writing.

"Things are going pretty well, Professor. I’ve made some good progress this last week." Harry turned and looked at Dumbledore’s portrait. Dumbledore winked and nodded, apparently understanding Harry had news he wanted to report.

 

"Harry, this year Saint Valentine’s Day falls on Saturday." Harry hadn’t given the calendar much thought, but he quickly realized she was right. "Normally, we would make that a Hogsmeade Weekend for the students, but, of course, this year we’re not doing that." Harry just looked at her, uncertain why she mentioned it. "Would you like to have your friends visit for the weekend?"

Harry didn’t know what to say. For six years, he had thought of McGonagall as rather strict, somewhat humorless, and certainly intolerant of most student misbehavior. Although it hadn’t been an issue for Harry personally, at least not until the end of last year, he also assumed she didn’t have much use for student displays of affection. If asked, he probably would have described her as prudish. But now? _Why did she offer me that? That doesn’t make any sense._ When he looked back, she was smiling, and obviously aware of his confusion.

"Harry, if there is one thing I feel about all that has happened, it is this. You worked hard during your time at Hogwarts. You overcame many obstacles. You came back into the magical world completely unaware of both our world…and the events that had shaped your future. Those were obstacles that would defeat most students. You have repeatedly demonstrated the kind of leadership and maturity that teachers dream of seeing." She glanced at Dumbledore and smiled. "Yes, you seemed to like bending the rules a bit, but we expect a certain amount of that, and I can’t say you ever did so maliciously. You made choices that consistently demonstrated appropriate intent." Harry had to grin a little at her words. _Yeah, the rules never really stopped me when I didn’t want them to._

"And now, when you should be here with your friends, enjoying your final year of school…you have been sent away…told you’re not welcome anymore. I wish that were not so." She looked over at the portrait of Dumbledore again, apparently seeking is approval for what she was about to say.

"Had you been in school this year, I would have appointed you Head Boy. Mr. Weasley has performed admirably, but it was a position you had earned. And yet I could not give it to you." She looked very sad, as if she had been forced to do something she really did not agree with. "You have been forced to live alone, by circumstances which we can not control. You have been asked…no, you have been _told_ …to accept responsibility for saving the world. You have accepted that challenge. I want you to know that not all of us think that is fair." Inside, Harry stomach was churning. He’d never heard McGonagall talk like this, and that made her comments all the more poignant.

"We may not have the power to change what must be, but we certainly do have the power to make your isolation more comfortable. I am well aware that your friends miss you, and though you do not complain, I am certain you miss them also. Nor do they complain, but I can see it in their faces. Even those students who hardly know you ask about your welfare from time to time. Before the school year started, I promised that I would provide you whatever help you needed. I intend to honor that promise, and this is one small thing I can do." _Small thing? She thinks letting Ginny and Ron and Hermione visit is a small thing? It’s huge._ Harry’s heart was doing cartwheels and backflips.

Harry was very taken with her words. He had always sensed a certain amount of mother hen in her approach to Gryffindor, never to the point of showing favoritism, but certainly showing genuine concern when things had happened. Now, she was displaying even more of that sentiment, and Harry was very touched.

"Thank you, Professor." he said, trying to avoid expressing some of the feelings rising in his chest. "I…well, I do miss being at school very much. I miss many things, but I also recognize that some of my life is beyond my control." He stopped, not wanting to venture far down the path of self-pity. He had been there once with Dumbledore, and found it a road strewn with regrets.

"I would like very much to have Ron and Hermione and Ginny for the weekend." Minerva smiled.

"I will tell them then, unless you prefer to let them know yourself."

"I don’t know how soon I will see them," he responded, somehow knowing that he could see them any time he really wanted to. All he had to do was ask, and he was sure McGonagall would allow it. He could also tell Ginny via the mirrors.

"Harry, why don’t you wander up to the Gryffindor common room right now. I’m sure Ginny will be there, and I think Hermione and Ron might be too." She spoke as if she knew some sort of secret…words expressed with a funny little smile on her face. She looked over at the portrait and smiled. "Professor Dumbledore will still be here when you return and you can share your latest news with him any time you wish." Harry looked at the portrait and grinned. _Yep, Dumbledore doesn’t get around like he used to._

Harry wasn’t about to pass up a chance to visit his old haunts and immediately threw on his cloak and headed to the tower. When he arrived he found himself facing the Fat Lady having no idea what the password was.

"Well?" she asked.

"I’m sorry. The Headmistress suggested I come and visit my friends, but I don’t know the password." Harry wasn’t sure what else to say.

"Well, if you don’t know the password, then I’m not supposed to let you in." Harry nodded, knowing well the procedure. "I guess you will need to find out what the password is from someone who knows." Harry nodded again, having no idea exactly how he was supposed to do that. After all, the Gryffindors were all inside already. He stood there, just thinking about it when the Fat Lady started to open the portal. "If you go inside, you can probably find someone to tell you." She grinned, and Harry laughed as he climbed once again through the portal…into his old house…and back into his former life.

What he found inside wasn’t what he expected. The entire seventh year was sitting around, almost as if they were waiting for him to appear. Smiles quickly turned into cheers as they took turns hugging, kissing, and generally welcoming him back home. Ginny politely waited while Lavender and Parvati took their turns and then slowly walked up, climbing into his arms. After a couple private moments, they claimed seats on the couch in front of the fire and snuggled together as everyone began asking Harry questions.

Where was he living? Was he all alone? What was he doing? Was he behind all the articles in _The Quibbler_? What was the Dark Lord up to? What was going to happen?

Harry answered everything he could, selectively leaving out information he wasn’t prepared to share yet. They all talked at once, especially when the subject of Severus Snape came up. They recounted memories of his classes, both good and bad, and Harry was surprised how many memories were actually funny…now that the likelihood of retribution was off the table. Neville’s boggart was clearly one of the funniest moments they’d ever had, even if Snape made their life hell because of it.

Finally, after the clock had past midnight, and when a pair of house elves had arrived to clean up the room, they adjourned the gathering. Harry kissed Ginny, reminding her to tell Hermione and Ron about the weekend, and then left. As he walked down the hallway, his heart was bouncing. All those blue threads began to make more sense to him. _I have more friends than I know…and I love every one of them._


	43. Hearts and Flowers - part 2

The days between the Gryffindor’s reunion and Saint Valentine’s Day flew along. Harry kept busy, splitting his time between his studies and his plans. One evening he headed to the Department of Mysteries, spending the entire night there. When he finally left, he knew the entire floor plan and a whole lot more about the "mysteries" within the department. However, despite his best efforts, he still couldn’t figure out what was in the blue painted room with the all little bouncing balls. He did know it would be an absolutely terrible place to fight.

 

The night of Friday the 13th came quickly. After an early dinner, Harry began his ritual cleaning. If nothing else, by living alone he had learned something many of his classmates wouldn’t discover for years to come: it’s easier to keep it clean than it is to clean it up! While he had never been truly messy, he had now discovered something he would never have thought before. Even though she was overly obsessive, Aunt Petunia’c cleaning complex did make her house look a lot better.

He was sitting reading when the gang arrived. After the usual hugs and greetings, Harry suggested that they all head for bed. Tomorrow, he warned, was going to be a very busy day. Ron just rolled his eyes…and Harry retaliated.

"Ron," Harry said with a grin, "if you don’t really want to go to bed with Hermione, I’m sure Ginny and I can make some room for her." The looks he got were worth it. "Ginny started laughing. Hermione exploded and could hardly contain herself. Ron’s reaction was priceless. He looked like he’d just been smacked by a passing bus! To add to his distress, Hermione quickly collected herself and stepped over to Harry, running her hands slowly down his chest and threatening to continue below his belt. Ginny continued to giggle and Hermione poured on the charm…and Harry responded with a big, right-on-the-lips-with-an-open-mouth kiss. _Merlin, I never thought Hermione knew how to kiss like this._

Finally Ron got his act together and the couples headed for separate rooms. Once behind the door, Ginny grabbed Harry and pulled him close. She kissed his cheek and then whispered in his ear. "If you really want to, I’m willing to try it." Now it was Harry’s turn to be shocked. He’d meant his comment as a silly aside, simply having a go at his friend. Now Ginny was saying a threesome might be fun. _Damn, I guess I’d better watch what I say from now on._ Then he pulled her towards the bed. _I wonder what it would be like._

The following morning Harry brought the group together early. He had a lot to discuss, and he wanted to get on with it. Before they could get started, the owl carrying the Daily Prophet arrived and Harry immediately found something interesting.

****

DIAGON ALLEY SHOP DESTROYED

****

Shoppers visiting Diagon Alley on Friday discovered that Quality Quidditch Supplies is no longer in business. There was no indication of business problems prior to Friday, and the owners of the shop could not be located for a comment. There was no sign in the window indicating a planned closure or offering any other explanation. Two employees were scheduled for the day, but only one showed up for work.

Joshua Pendragon, who has worked at the shop for seven years, stated that he knew nothing about the closure. He advised that Marcus Flint, who began at the shop upon his graduation from Hogwarts, was also scheduled to work but did not appear. Pendragon stated that the inside of the shop was in shambles.

 

Though the story went on, Harry didn’t need to read any more. Voldemort was on the loose yet again, and it was quite possible that Flint was another name he should add to the role of new Death Eaters. While he and Harry hadn’t been anything more than opponents on the Quidditch pitch, he was a Slytherin, and his play certainly indicated he was not above questionable decisions.

Harry glanced at the rest of the paper, discovering another article inside that deserved more space.

 

****

DOWNTOWN RAMPAGE IN BIGGLESWADE WREAKS HAVOC

****

An overnight rampage, possibly by Death Eaters, destroyed several downtown blocks in the town of Biggleswade. There was no obvious connection with the Dark Lord, however, the event seemed to defy any reasonable muggle description and members of the Ministry’s Obliviator Squads were seen in the area, asking questions of the muggles who witnessed the event.

 

Harry read a little more, uncertain what it meant. His first hunch was that Voldemort was mad, and simply took it out on the first thing to cross his path…like Lidice, a little town that had nothing to do with anything. He was correct, but had no way of knowing it.

As he put the paper aside, Ginny started asking questions. "What happened at Voldemort’s old house?" Harry cut to the chase.

"A Death Eater showed up, just like we hoped. Even better, it was Peter Pettigrew. I stunned him, brought him back, and then started asking him questions after I fed him a little Veritaserum." They all gazed at him, waiting for more.

"Here’s what he told me." Harry talked for several minutes without pausing. His information was greeted by periodic gasps or stares as he filled them in on things they could only have suspected. Finally, he reached the end and reviewed what had changed.

"So, the fifth Horcrux is most likely the Ravenclaw brooch," he said, pointing at his crude drawing. For the first time, he was uncertain that he was correct, but his assumption was based on solid ground. Given the situation, that was probably as good as it was going to get.

"I believe that Voldemort actually did die when he tried to kill me. If the spell rebounded, and he was left without a body, something would have to happen to the body he had. So, I think there would be a body either way. But I just think he was dead…at least, the original Voldemort was dead." There was uncertainty in what he said, and he knew it. Now he was going beyond basic assumption…into the realm of…hopeful conclusion, and that made them all slightly uncomfortable.

"Harry, what if he wasn’t…you know, dead dead," Ron asked. It was an obvious question.

"I don’t know, Ron. There is only one thing that makes me pretty sure he was. If he wasn’t dead, if his soul, or the piece of soul that was in his body, didn’t die, why didn’t it show up anywhere? According to Peter, there was just a body at the house when he got there. A body and…well, me." Harry tried hard not to get emotionally involved in the discussion, since it still hurt to think about it. "So, Peter tried to figure out what happened and concluded that Voldemort died. He didn’t really know about the Horcruxes, so until he got back and talked to the others, he didn’t know anything else."

"But if the piece of his soul didn’t die, where did it go? It seems to me that either it would still be around the house, in which case it would have tried to possess Peter when he showed up…or it would have left, trying to get back to where the Death Eaters were waiting. I don’t know how fast a soul can move." Harry paused, thinking about that for a moment. _Wait a minute. I do know. I’ve seen one move before._

"Wait. I think I do know. When I was chasing after the stone, down in the chamber with Quirrell, I remember seeing Voldemort’s spirit…his soul…leaving Quirrell’s body after he died. It was just before I passed out…but I remember seeing…well…a cloud or something. It was flying away…out of the room. That must have been Voldemort’s soul. If it was, then there should have been something like that when the spell rebounded. If he didn’t really die."

Harry was confused. Was it possible that he had seen that? He and Ginny had talked about whether he had a memory of that night, but he didn’t really want to go there again. Now, maybe it was important. Harry was the only witness who could say what had happened…maybe. His memory might be very important. If Voldemort died, then the missing Horcrux wasn’t worth searching for since it had been used to create the new Voldemort. Ginny was the first to grasp what he was saying…and where it led.

"Harry, I know how you feel, but can we look for that memory? Maybe…if you can find it…well…one of us could look at it. You don’t need to if you don’t want to." She was offering him a way out. _I could pull it out and just let her look. She could tell us what she saw and I don’t have to go there. No! If there’s a memory there, I need to see it. I know I won’t enjoy watching, but I have to know._ He decided, but for the moment wanted to put it off. He wanted to finish the discussion before he started something like that.

"I’ll try and…well, I’ll do it later." Ginny nodded, and Ron and Hermione just looked at him. He was going to re-visit the worst possible memory anyone could have. Hermione just marveled at his courage, knowing how hard it would be if the memory was really there. She knew he missed his mother terribly, and now he was volunteering to go back and watch her get killed. _Whatever he needs, we’ll give him. I’ll even obliviate his memory if I have to._ She tried to re-focus the conversation on something else.

"Harry, if Voldemort died, how did he come back? What did Peter say happened?"

"According to Peter, he went to the house and found Voldemort dead. Then he went back and told Dolohov. There was some discussion, and Dolohov said he knew a way to bring the Dark Lord back to life. Peter didn’t know anything about the Horcruxes, so he just listened. He said Dolohov was concerned about doing it here, because people would be looking for him. So he suggested that someone go to Albania and do whatever it was that needed to be done."

"So, someone took the brooch to Albania and released the Horcrux. How did Voldemort get his wand back? He still had the same one when you fought at the cemetery?" Harry nodded.

"Peter said that he picked up Voldemort’s wand when he was at the house. Dolohov took it with him, saying that Voldemort would need it when he returned to human form. That’s all I know for sure, and Dolohov is dead, so we’ll probably never really know. I assume that whoever went to Albania simply released the Horcrux and left the wand together with the brooch. When Voldemort was finally found by Peter, and when they killed Bertha Jorkins, he still had the wand." Harry didn’t know any of this for certain, and he hadn’t asked Peter about it too much, so he was guessing. However, it didn’t really matter. Voldemort had the wand, and that was the only important thing. _Will Voldemort use the same wand the next time? If he was smart, he’d get another one so the same thing couldn’t happen again._

"Now, Peter didn’t understand any of this, but he decided it would be a good thing if Voldemort didn’t return right away, since he might be really mad at Peter for sending him to the Potters in the first place. While Dolohov was talking about how to recover the broach and what needed to be done, Peter was thinking about where to hide. He had already figured out that becoming a pet would be his best option, and he was on his way to do that when he ran into Sirius. He blasted the street, killing a bunch of muggles and then transformed, becoming Scabbers for the next 12 years." Ron nodded, knowing the rest of the story from that point on.

"So, he didn’t know about the Horcruxes?"

"That’s right. All the Death Eaters knew Voldemort had done some things to make himself immortal, but only a few knew what, and only a couple knew where to find a Horcrux if they needed it. Peter doesn’t know who else besides Dolohov knew. I suspect Bella might, but I have no way of knowing for sure. In any case, if we can find the cup, then it doesn’t matter."

"So, if he made the brooch into a Horcrux, and if it was used to bring him back, then we only need to find the cup." It was both a statement and a question.

"That’s right. We still need to find the cup, but that would be the last one." Harry walked to the wall and pointed. "The diary is gone. The ring is gone. The locket is gone. The Sorting Hat is gone. The broach is used up. The cup is…well, we don’t know about it. Piece number seven was the piece still in his body." Everyone took a deep breath. They were close. Very close.

"If we could find it, then we are ready to confront Voldemort himself, right?" Ginny wasn’t sure, but that sounded like an accurate description of where they were.

"That’s right, Ginny. There’s nothing more we have to do first." Hermione looked around the room and stared at the sayings of Tzu.

"Is there anything else we _want_ to do, Harry?"

"What do you mean?"

"You said there isn’t anything else we have to do. Is there anything else you’d like to do first?" Harry understood her question now, and considered his answer.

"There are a couple of things. If we’re going to have the fight at the Ministry, I want to take all of you there and walk around a bit, so you know where things are. The biggest advantage of fighting there is the confusion that all those rooms create. There are some great hiding places, and some passages that would allow us to move about without being seen. You need to know all of them, and how to use them."

"You’ve seen all of it, haven’t you?" Ginny asked. Harry nodded. "Are you going to show us the Chamber of Love?" Harry wasn’t sure how to respond. It wasn’t that he didn’t want them to see it. There was nothing in the Chamber that he wouldn’t share, but he’d promised Arcanum, and he felt bound to honor his promise.

"I don’t know, Ginny. It’s not that you shouldn’t see it. It might even be rather boring. But…well, I had to promise to preserve the secret, and I’m not sure I want to break that promise." He paused and saw the look of disappointment on her face. "If there’s any way I can, I will. Maybe when we’re done with the fight I can." He realized that sounded rather lame, but he didn’t know what else to say. He also realized that it sounded like the fight was no big deal…and the outcome not in doubt. _I will show them._ _I’ll show all of them, not just Ginny._

Ron was looking at the pictures on the wall. As he studied all the Death Eaters, he was confused.

"Harry, why did you put Crabbe and Goyle up there?" Harry grinned.

"I think we have to assume they may have joined their fathers. The same thing goes for Nott. We know Malfoy did, so it’s likely the others did too. If not, well, it’s no big deal." Harry pointed to the blank sheets at the end. "I also assume there are others…new recruits that we know nothing about. I never thought we had a complete list. There may be others we’ve never seen plus new people who have come along since Voldemort returned. Maybe some of the old timers have other relatives we don’t know." He walked over to the wall and pointed.

"Does Mulciber have a brother or a cousin? I don’t know. Does Greyback have any relatives? Has he bitten anyone who has since joined up?" Ron nodded, understanding that there might be a whole cadre of Death Eaters they had never encountered before.

"How do we know if we’ve got them all?"

"I don’t know if we ever can know, Ron. If we capture some alive, we can ask them, but there might be more out there. Our best hope is that we kill Voldemort once and for all, and that the publicity of his death is enough to kill the movement."

"Harry, what are you going to do to make Voldemort come to the Ministry to fight?" Hermione asked.

"I think a nice picture on the cover of _The Quibbler_ will do it. If we take a picture of his body…and lay out all the Horcruxes in front of it, and then announce that on tomorrow they will all be pushed through the veil and disposed of, he will likely respond." They all grinned as they thought about what was likely to happen if that was published. _Yeah, he’ll respond all right. Like a muggle nuclear weapon!_

Ron was still looking at the pictures, carefully studying each one. He stopped at Snape. "Harry, do you know why Dumbledore trusted Snape?" Harry took a deep breath. _Should I tell them? Will it affect the way they see Dumbledore? Is it fair…to Dumbledore? Is it fair to them to keep it a secret?_ For a long time Harry just stood, looking at the picture himself. Then he finally spoke.

"I do know, Ron. I’m…well, I’m not sure I should show you." He realized how that sounded, and hastened to explain. "It’s not that I don’t trust you or anything. It’s just, well, if you see it it’s going to change how you feel about some things." Ron wasn’t sure what he meant. Hermione spoke first.

"Did Dumbledore leave you a memory, Harry?" _Merlin, she’s perceptive._ Harry nodded.

"He left me a several. Things he never shared before…with anyone." Hermione thought about what he’d said. They were obviously private memories, shared between a teacher and his pupil. Was there any reason for her to intrude? She decided to drop it, but Ron didn’t.

"What did Snape do, Harry?"

"Let’s just say that I probably would have been convinced too, Ron." Harry hoped that would be enough, but Ron just didn’t quite understand.

"Well, what did he do?" Ron was pushing, although he didn’t realize it. Harry seemed to be avoiding an answer, and Ron really wanted to know. Unlike the girls, Ron just didn’t communicate with Harry the same way. He didn’t sense Harry’s moods as well, so he was likely to push when Harry had asked him not to. Harry knew that, so it didn’t really bother him, but still…. _I think the time has come._


	44. Hearts and Flowers - part 3

Without saying anything more, Harry walked to the bookshelf and pulled down the pensieve. Then he walked over to a cabinet. When he opened the door, Ginny could see many little bottles sitting on the shelf. Harry took his time, looking through the collection. He returned with two. As they watched, he uncorked the first one and poured its contents into the bowl. The silver fluid shimmered as it flowed within the bowl, rolling in little waves as it settled into place.

"I’ll go first, but you need to join me right away because the memory will start as soon as I arrive. When you land come over to where I’m standing. When I tell you it’s time to go, just hold my hands and I’ll bring us all back here. Does that make sense?" Again, they all nodded. Harry was about to lead them on a great adventure, and they were about to experience something they would never forget. Harry motioned them around the bowl and then reached out with his hand and jumped into the memory.

He landed in Dumbledore’s office and quickly walked to one side. Immediately Ginny landed beside him, followed by Ron and then Hermione. When they turned, they could see Dumbledore sitting at his desk with Fawkes sitting beside him on his stand. One of the weird little machines that Dumbledore had was sitting on the desktop, the little parts turning and spinning as blue smoke came out of one side. Dumbledore seemed to be intent on studying it when there was a knock on the door. He looked up, tapped the machine with his wand, and then walked over to the door. When he opened the door, Hermione gasped. It was Severus Snape, but as they had never seen him before.

Dumbledore ushered him inside, and as he came closer they could all see for the first time. Severus was sobbing, and obviously had been for some time. Dumbledore helped him into a chair and quickly poured him a cup of tea from the pot on the table behind him. Snape shook his head, but Dumbledore put the cup on the front of his desk and then pulled up a chair to sit beside him.

"What has happened, Severus?"

Snape cried out in agony, as if he had just received some awful news or witnessed some unspeakable event. He didn’t answer the question, but broke into a fresh chorus of sobs and tears. Dumbledore put his arm around Severus and simply waited for him to regain enough control to speak.

"Professor, I have…been…I have…made…a…mistake." Severus managed to squeeze out a few words between his sobs. It was difficult to watch, for he was a man clearly in agony. 

"What is it, Severus?" Dumbledore said softly, his voice very gentle like a pastor consoling a bereaved mother.

"Professor…sir…please. I…have." He stopped yet again and his howls of anguish rolled around the room, returning from the walls as tortured echoes. Dumbledore just sat with him, patting his shoulders and waiting for his misery to subside. Finally Severus pulled himself together enough to speak.

"Professor, I…have…made a terrible mistake," he sobbed, and then continued. "I have…was convinced…." He stopped and started on a different track.

"Prof…fessor, you know of…Lord Voldemort?" Dumbledore nodded, his face growing very solemn and concerned. "I…he…asked me…to join his…cause." Dumbledore immediately understood some of what was troubling him.

"Did you join him, Severus?" Dumbledore was speaking as he might to a child of ten, very gently and with great compassion. Snape nodded and his sobs began again.

"He…promised…great things."

"I understand, Severus. I know well how persuasive he can be." Dumbledore was clearly conflicted, Those watching could easily see that he was distressed to find out that Severus had been lured into the service of Tim Riddle.

"He…asked me…what happened…at the Hog’s Head." Now Dumbledore sensed danger. He knew Severus had heard part of the prophecy, maybe all of it. Had he told Voldemort?

"And what did you tell him, Severus?" It was a very gentle question, and certainly one that Snape could anticipate once he raised the issue, but nevertheless the result was an instant cascade of new tears and sobs.

"I…told him…of…the birth. That’s all." Dumbledore sat back, his brow furrowed in thought. Standing at the side, Harry pulled Ginny closer to him. He’d seen this before, and it took days to recover from the last time. He couldn’t go through that again.

"He…said…the Dark Lord said…he would have…to kill…the child." Snape stopped and took a deep breath. "And the parents too, if they got in the way." He rushed the sentence and then fell into another spasm of bawling. Dumbledore’s face grew even more serious, if that was possible.

"Did he say who he was going to kill, Severus?" Snape nodded without speaking, continuing to cry.

"Pot…ter," he finally uttered, and then screamed. "He’s going to kill Potter! Potter, who saved my life! He saved me…and now I killed him!" Severus fell from the chair, his body wracked with the pain of a deadly confession. Dumbledore knelt down beside him, trying to find a way to comfort him.

Ginny quickly buried her face in Harry shoulder. Hermione and Ron turned to each other, neither able to watch. The Snape they knew was always an arrogant, self-assured bastard. But this…this was a tortured soul who was dying a slow, agonizing death right in front of them.

"Has he set out to do that yet, Severus?" Dumbledore was clearly trying to formulate a plan to thwart Voldemort, but he needed more information. Did he have any time to work with? Between sobs, Snape shook his head and then finally spoke again.

"He wasn’t in a…hurry…a rush. He just…said he decided." Dumbledore took a deep breath, setting his mouth a little.

"I see. Severus, I think we can deal with this. I think there is a way to prevent this calamity." Snape could hear him, but his words didn’t assuage his torture. In his mind, Snape couldn’t see any way out.

"Severus, I will need your help. Are you willing to assist me? Snape managed to sit up, his clothes wet with his tears and dirty from his roll on the floor.

"What…would you…have…me do?"

"I’m going to need to know what the Dark Lord is doing. I’m going to need a…a spy." Snape quickly nodded. "There will be some danger," Dumbledore added calmly, as if telling a youngster that flying on a broom could result in a fall. Snape nodded again.

"I…will do whatever you need. I have made…a terrible mistake," Severus sobbed. His eyes were completely rimmed with red, and the stain of his tears was evident even in the black that he wore. Gradually, with Dumbledore’s help, he got up from the floor and sat in the chair once again. Dumbledore gave him a fresh cup of tea, and Severus drank slowly.

Harry took Ginny’s hand and led them back out of the memory. As they regained the room, no one spoke. Ginny and Hermione were both crying themselves, and Ron obviously had been. Harry was a little better, but seeing someone so distressed, even if he knew it was coming, was still difficult. As they each sat with their own thoughts, Harry put the memory back into the bottle and replaced it in the cupboard. He looked at the second bottle he had removed and then decided against it. _Maybe some other time._ Ginny got up and walked over to him, pulling his arms around her and squeezing him tight.

"Harry, we can wait. It’s not that important," she said softly. Her words were very comforting, but Harry had decided he wanted to proceed. _Let’s get it over. If it’s there, I’d just as soon do it now._ Harry went back to the table and sat down, aware that all of them were looking at him. He collected his thoughts for a moment, and then pulled out his wand.

He wasn’t sure what he’d retrieved, but it filled the pensieve. A brief shudder of uncertainty ran though his veins. _I’m going to look at my own memory, and I don’t even know what I’m going to see._ There was no way he wouldn’t be apprehensive, both because he didn’t consciously remember this…and because he wasn’t sure he wanted to see it anyway. In either case, or both, he was committed to doing it, so he pointed to everyone. Without further ado, he reached out and allowed the pensieve to pull him in.

It was dark. It was very dark. He started to move, trying to figure out where he was, but he immediately ran into something…a wall. He could just barely see Ginny land beside him, followed by the others and they gradually squeezed into what was apparently the corner of a room. As he waited from something else to happen, he began to mentally figure out where in the room he was. _The door must be over there…because the crib is…there!_ Then there was a noise.

From somewhere outside the room, they could hear yelling. A man and a woman, yelling to each other. They couldn’t make out words, but the hysteria in their voices was evident. There was more shouting, and now another voice…a male voice. _That has to be Voldemort._ Harry pulled Ginny tighter, wanting his life raft in the stormy sea he was about to cross. From his other side he felt Hermione grab him. Other than his mother, whom he had never really known, the two most important women in his life were here with him.

There was a pounding on the stairs and then the door flew open. Harry gasped as his mother ran into the room, starting to reach into the crib. _That’s me. That’s me she’s reaching for._ Then another figure appeared in the doorway, blocking the light. It was Voldemort, his red eyes on fire.

"Get out of the way, woman!" he demanded. But Lily Potter stood her ground, turning to face him. "GET OUT OF THE WAY!"

"No," she said softly. She didn’t yell. She didn’t scream. She seemed to accept the situation without fear.

"MOVE!" he screamed, his voice filled with rage. She didn’t respond.

"I will not move. I will not stand aside and let you kill my son." Lily spoke in a very calm, quiet voice…defiant yet dignified. Voldemort raised his wand, his face contorted into an evil sneer.

" ** _Avada Kedavra!_** "

Harry knew it was coming. He had always known. He knew what was going to happen. But still, it was more than he could handle. In tears, he turned to Ginny’s shoulder and buried his face. He had just seen his mother killed…because she wanted to save him. _She didn’t have to die. She chose to die. She saved me by sacrificing herself._ His heart was filled with pain beyond anything he had ever felt before. Even when Voldemort had tried to possess him…that night in the Ministry…it hadn’t been this bad. Not even close to this bad.

When he finally looked back, his mother was lying on the floor. He could see "himself" sitting upright in the crib. He couldn’t see his own face, but that was probably better. Voldemort was slowly advancing towards the crib, his wand held in front.

"So, you’re the little boy who’s going to save the world. Well, I’m sorry, but there’s been a change of plans." Harry knew it was a memory, but he wanted to jump out and strangle Voldemort with his bare hands. _Forget magic, I’m going to kill him anyway._

They waited as Voldmort looked around the room. _Is he having second thoughts? Has he ever killed a small child before? Maybe he’s just uncertain._ Whatever was happening, it didn’t last very long and Voldemort smiled as he lifted his wand in the air again. This time, Harry knew he had to watch. It was the whole reason for being here.

" ** _Avada Kedavra!_** " The familiar green streak flew into the crib and the child was thrown against the railing of the far side. The spell rebounded and flew directly back at Voldemort, hitting him square in the chest. Without a word, he flew backward against the doorframe, his wand flying out the door and downstairs. He slumped to the floor, his face frozen in a look of pain and surprise.

Harry watched closely, as did the others. If something was going to happen, it had to happen soon. If his soul was going to leave, it should happen immediately.

The child in the crib began to grow restless. He didn’t cry, so apparently the spell striking him hadn’t hurt much, even if it did leave a scar. He just sat…and looked at his mother and this other man, both lying on the floor. Harry freed himself from Ginny’s grasp and took her hand. Then taking Hermione’s hand, he pulled them all out of the pensieve.

Harry just sat. No one else wanted to say anything either. Each of them was trapped within their own thoughts and feelings. Ginny and Hermione didn’t know how Harry had done it. He was quiet, very calm, and…and more or less composed. Both of them were struggling to maintain a semblance of control. What they had seen was horrible, and even worse because it happened to someone they knew and loved.

Ron was just numb. He wasn’t a very emotional person, at least not openly. He had feelings, but seldom expressed them to anyone except Hermione. Even then, he didn’t say much. He didn’t even know how to feel about what he’d just seen. He witnessed a murder, and it ought to affect him. Yet he knew it was a memory. No one really died. Sort of. He just didn’t know what to think.

Eventually Harry got up and walked around the room. Three times Ginny started to get up…to go to him…and then decided she wouldn’t. She wanted to be there for him, but didn’t know anything to say or do that would comfort him. She couldn’t tell him it wasn’t real…because it was. She couldn’t tell him it would be better, because he knew the next 16 years hadn’t been. She just didn’t know what to say.

Finally, Hermione got up and slowly walked towards him. She walked very very slowly, letting him see her coming. She watched for any sign that said "stay away"…a hint he wanted to be left alone. When she didn’t see one, she continued. When she got next to him, she gently raised her hand, again letting him tell her if what she was doing was okay. When she touched his cheek, he turned a little and looked directly into her eyes. She’d never seen such pain before. 

Very slowly, she took his hand and led him out of the room. When they reached the door to his bedroom, she pulled him on, not letting him go in. Harry didn’t understand why, but Hermione knew what she was doing. She didn’t want him to ever associate this pain with that room. That room, the room where he could freely share his love and feelings, needed to remain free of this anguish. Instead, she pulled him into her old room…the room where she had slept before she moved in with Ron.

She led him to the bed and had him sit. After she removed his shoes, she guided him to the pillows and then got up beside him. As gently as she could, she pulled him into her arms and held him tight. He finally broke, and Harry Potter began to cry. He had been hurt, and he desperately wanted his mother’s arms around him. For now…and for as long as he needed that, Hermione would be there.


	45. Back for the Future

Chapter 43 – Back for the Future

For the entire rest of the morning, the house remained quiet. Only the ticking of the clock in the drawing room broke the silence. Ginny and Ron talked for a while and then just waited. Things would need to run their course, and there was no set timeframe. If it took until Wednesday, that was okay.

Shortly after noon, Hermione came out and told them Harry was awake and feeling better. Ginny wanted to go to him, but Hermione advised her to wait. He was embarrassed, she said, and wouldn’t want Ginny to see him like this. Ginny didn’t care, but Hermione still told her to wait.

"Ginny, it’s not about you. It’s about him. He needs to pull himself back together, and he’ll think he’s let you down if you see him being weak." Ginny scoffed at the idea, but Hermione was firm. "Just trust me. He’ll be back up in a while." Ginny finally relented, and Hermione returned to her room, holding Harry tight as they talked about all kinds of things.

Ron and Ginny fixed lunch and waited some more. Finally, Harry and Hermione came in. There were a few moment of awkward silence, and then they began talking about other things…school, Quidditch, and who was dating whom. Slowly the dark cloud dissipated and it was Harry who brought the conversation back around to the business at hand. After some small talk, Harry took Ginny’s hand and they retreated to their bedroom for a while.

 

Harry was torn between two conflicting paths…paths that led in opposite directions for contradictory reasons. He wasn’t interested in returning to his parent’s house again, simply because he’d been there, and felt emotions that he’d just as soon not revisit. It was the site of his greatest loss, which he’d just relived, and he knew another visit would rekindle those feelings. He also knew that he had to go, for there were things he needed to confirm. Things that would help determine the outcome of his future. In his mind, he knew there was no decision to be made, but his heart felt otherwise.

Before the morning meeting had come to a close, he decided he would go today…and get it over with. Whatever he discovered, he could share with his friends, and if anything changed, they could discuss the impact while they were still at the house. He also decided he didn’t want to go alone. For a while he considered taking everyone, but somehow that didn’t seem right. It wasn’t that he didn’t want all of them to see the place, it was just…well…somehow, at least for Harry, it was…hallowed ground, and the last thing he wanted was to trample the area with a herd of people, even if they were his friends. He debated about taking Hermione, given what she had just done for him, but in the end, he decided that he and Ginny would go. He could share this with his wife-to-be.

About two, Harry and Ginny appeared in the drawing room, dressed to travel. For February, it wasn’t too cold, but Harry didn’t know what the weather might be like in Godric’s Hollow and they carried extra clothing just in case. He was also taking a small empty handbag, on the assumption they would find something to bring back.

"We’ll be back in an hour or so, I think," Harry said, letting Hermione and Ron know of their plans. Hermione got up and came over to him, putting her arms around him in a friendly hug.

"Take care, Harry," she said as she kissed his cheek. Then she hugged Ginny and whispered something in her ear which Harry couldn’t quite decipher. Whatever if was, Ginny grinned and smiled as Hermione resumed her seat on the couch next to Ron and they prepared to resume their reading. Harry wrapped his arms around Ginny and prepared to leave.

"You know," he said with an evil grin, "we could just do this and not apparate." Ginny smiled. She’d like nothing better, because Harry’s arms were where she felt most at home. With a slight giggle she poked him in the ribs. He laughed and closed his eyes…and they were off.

 

Ginny was struggling to stand up as they landed in a narrow country lane. Like Harry, she wasn’t a huge fan of Apparation, but it was much quicker than anything else, and a four hour broom ride wasn’t really an option. As she looked around, she found a place completely unremarkable. There were trees stripped of their leaves and standing stark against the winter sky. There were bushes and shrubs, but nothing she couldn’t see almost anywhere else in rural areas, and there were leaves on the ground, left for mother nature to sweep if she desired. Evidentially she didn’t, for they lay in piles here and there, blown by the wind to whatever obstacle stopped their progress. The place reminded her of the Burrow, even though she hadn’t been at her home during the winter for six years now. The winter sun provided light but little heat. At least it wasn’t raining.

Slowly they began to make their way down the lane, pausing from time to time to look at things. Across the valley floor they could see a small hill with the remains of a castle or something rising from its summit. A short distance further, they saw an old farm, apparently abandoned. The barn was leaning to one side, and many of the small outbuildings were overgrown with gorse and vines. It looked like someone had just walked away, leaving the land to return to nature.

Then Harry turned and a short distance in this new direction brought them to the Potter house. Ginny looked at him, knowing his feelings had to be churning inside.

"Harry, it’s okay." Harry wasn’t sure what she meant and his face conveyed his puzzlement. "I know this is tough for you. I understand. It’s okay. It’s okay to feel that way." Her words, spoken so softly but with honesty and feeling, melted his heart. "I’m here, Harry. We’ll be okay together."

Harry’s eyes started to tear. He had never known anyone who could sense his feelings so completely…who could understand what made him tick inside. He knew he loved her. He knew she loved him. He’d seen it in the ball. But more than that, he seen it in the way she looked at him…the way she talked with him…the way she allowed him to be himself. Even when they disagreed, she was never judgmental. She just…somehow…completed him. He looked away, not in embarrassment or shame, simply because he didn’t think he could give her the things she gave him, and that seemed unfair.

Ginny let him look away for a moment, allowing him those thoughts, and then reached up and gently pulled his face back to hers. "I love you, Harry." For a moment they just looked, each set of eyes seeing through the other and directly to the heart and mind concealed inside. For a moment they were somewhere else, some place known only to lovers, where nothing else mattered. They were simply two souls entwined, melting together into one…like a strand of DNA, they were twisted together into the double helix of life.

Finally, after a short but passionate kiss, they turned together and started down the walk towards the house. Harry debated where to go. Peter hadn’t been very specific about where he’d left his discovery, but as they entered through the broken doorway, Harry remembered his earlier visit. As he’d started into the old living room last time, he’d felt a chill. Now that seemed like the best place to begin his search. Without a word, he stepped away from Ginny and extended his hands, remembering the instructions from his father’s forbidden book. It didn’t take long.

In the corner, almost directly in line with the stairs, Harry sensed something. That makes sense. He was upstairs when the spell rebounded and he was knocked backwards. He took out his wand and quietly invoked a searching spell, moving from place to place more like a water witch or dowser than a modern wizard. He found two areas of interest and began looking more closely, moving leaves and vines to disclose the household items beneath them.

Harry had no experience with the transformation of a body. He remembered Barty Crouch talking about transforming his father’s body into a bone and then burying it near Hagrid’s hut, but other than that he had no ideas. He supposed you could transform a body into almost anything. In McGonagall’s fifth-year class, they’d learned some generic transformation spells that could change almost anything into a predetermined object so he assumed that might be what Peter had used. He looked over at Ginny.

 

"I think it’s right here," he said, pointing to a pile of dinner plates and other tableware that had ended up on the floor when the hutch had fallen over. She nodded, not really aware of anything other than what she could see. He began to move the debris aside, making a serious effort at cleaning up a little of the area. Ginny pitched in and shortly they could see a goodly part of the floor and items that had ended up there. Then they both stood back and Harry pulled out his wand again. In the cool air, his breath created a little fog as he pointed at various things and uttered the words to make them respond.

At first, nothing happened. Harry wasn’t too surprised. There were so many dishes spread about. He paused after a while and decided to work a little differently. Turning his wand back into the concealment sensor once again, he got down on his knees and tried to locate a specific item. In the first pile, nothing seemed significant, and he crawled slowly towards another pile, his knees rubbing on the uneven floor. In this pile, the result was different. He started with a stack of dinner plates, and the top one seemed alive when he touched it. He set it aside and then compared it with the others. It was…similar, but the edge didn’t have the gold trim like all the others. This one was plain.

"This is it, Ginny. Peter made it into a plate." Ginny nodded, staring as she wondered if she was about to see the body of the Dark Lord. Harry got back up to his feet and stood back, wrapping his arm around her. " _Disconsis anteriormente!_ " he said, barely louder than a whisper. There was a small streak of white light that flowed from his wand, and a loud sucking sound as the plate transformed. In a moment, they were both looking at the body of Voldemort, a gaunt figure dressed in a black cloak with a face etched with an expression of pain and surprise. Both Harry and Ginny gasped, for though they expected what they saw, it was still a shock to see it for real. Harry quickly wrapped his arms around her and for a moment they both looked away. For the first time, other than the memory, Ginny met the Dark Lord as Harry had known him.

Almost immediately, Harry spoke again and the body transformed again, this time into a simple drinking glass. They knew what they had, so there was no reason to continue to look at it in its natural form. Harry’s mind was running wild. How could he use this to his advantage? _What would happen if I put a picture of this on the front page of The Quibbler?_ Harry found himself smiling as he considered that idea. For starters, there isn’t enough paper in England to print the copies that would be needed?

He put those thoughts aside and picked up the glass, handing it to Ginny to put into the bag. Then he remembered there was another area that seemed to hold something concealed, and he headed back into the debris piles to search further. He was very glad he did. As he swung his wand around, he immediately was drawn towards another spot a short distance away. Slowly, careful not to step on anything significant, he worked his way towards the leaning wall and the bookcase that was still precariously attached to it. The contents had fallen to the floor, and most had succumbed to the ravages of time and weather.

As he began to move the top of the molding pile, the books, or what had once been books, just fell apart into handfuls of wet mush, paper that had largely returned to its pulp state. After a few minutes work, he and Ginny had cleared much of the pile and were nearly down to the floor. Harry pulled out his wand again, and was immediately rewarded with a more specific location to examine.

Ginny pulled a large leather binding from the area, and shrieked. Whatever she could see was hidden from Harry’s view, and he immediately pulled her back, fearing she had found something dangerous. She fought his assistance, wanting to see more of what she had briefly glimpsed.

"No, Harry. It’s okay. It’s…right there." She pointed, and Harry removed another couple of rotted bindings. Underneath, lying directly on the old floor boards, was a small cup…the golden cup that once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff. "Harry? Is it…is that the cup?" Ginny stuttered. To her, it looked exactly like the picture Harry had placed on his wall.

Very slowly, Harry reached out with his wand and touched the handle, rocking it slightly on the floor. Nothing happened. He picked up a fallen tree branch nearby, broke the fan of branches from the end of it, and used the resulting stick to poke it again. Again, nothing happened beyond a simple display of gravity. Carefully wielding the stick, he inserted the end into one of the handles and lifted it carefully into the air. It wasn’t very big, and it didn’t weigh much. Harry stood up and gingerly carried it to the staircase, using the stick to avoid touching it. After he set it down, he pulled out his wand again.

" ** _Revelare Vita!_** " The cup began to glow, and Harry had his answer. "Voldemort must have brought that with him, to make another Horcrux…the last Horcrux!" he said, smiling as he looked into Ginny’s eyes.

"Does that mean we have all of them?" Harry nodded. _He must have made a Horcrux from killing my dad. Or maybe it already was one and he was going to hide it here. I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll ever know._

"I think so. At least…all that we know about. The diary is gone…the ring is gone…the Sorting Hat is gone…the locket is gone…the cup is right here. The other one, if I’m right and it was the Ravenclaw broach, was used to re-create Voldemort after he died here. That’s all six accounted for." Ginny just gazed at the cup. They had done it. They had found all of them. They could move on to confronting Voldemort himself.

"Do you want to take it back with us, Harry?" He nodded again.

"I think we’ll need to have it, just to prove we do have it." Harry’s mind was racing. He wanted to put that picture on _The Quibbler_ cover, a picture with Voldemort’s body and all the Horcruxes. He _knew_ it would provoke that attack he so desperately wanted.

"Do you want to kill it now?" Harry considered his options. _I’m not sure I want to touch it, because it may be cursed. I certainly will kill it, so I might as well do it now. The sooner the better. There’s no reason to wait, is there? I can’t think of any._

"I think we should, Ginny. There’s no reason to keep it alive." He put his arms around Ginny again, pulling her into his embrace and kissing her. Then, with great deliberation, he raised his wand and faced the cup. " ** _Avada Kedavra!_** "

 

Ron and Hermione were no where to be seen when Harry and Ginny returned to the drawing room. Ginny assumed they had retired to their room, and rather than confront them, she decided to simply make enough noise that it would be obvious they were back.

"Harry, do you know where they went?" she said, far louder than was necessary. Harry caught her meaning.

"I don’t know, Ginny. I suspect they might have decided to take a nap." His grin suggested something more than that, and Ginny started laughing as she considered what he’d said. She took a step towards their door and then continued the conversation.

"Well, should we wake them up? I think they’d want to see what we’ve found." Now Harry was laughing too, trying without success to continue the mock conversation.

"Nah. Let them sleep. It will just be our little secret." They laughed together and headed down the hallway, knowing the door behind them would pop open any moment, which it promptly did. Hermione came out, her hair far more distressed than usual. As she spoke, she was still adjusting her clothes.

"Oh," she said, feigning surprise, "you guys are back. What did you find?" Ginny could hardly contain herself, but decided to play the game as best she could.

"It was very interesting, Hermione. The house was really damaged. I didn’t think it would be that bad." Her rather banal description left Harry leaning against the wall, trying to keep his composure. Hermione didn’t understand that at all, and a very tousled Ron followed her out of the door. Harry decided to stop the façade and attack frontally.

"I…erm…hope we didn’t…er…interrupt anything important." Ron’s face was a mystery, but Hermione quickly cottoned to what he said and started laughing herself.

"Nothing that can’t be…done later."

"Oh. Well, we have some news for you both." Harry led them all back into the drawing room and carefully opened the bag. Harry set the glass on the floor, and Ginny unwrapped the cup, pulling on the tail of the piece of tablecloth they had used to protect it. As it rolled out onto the floor, Hermione gasped.

"You found the cup?"

"Yep, and it was a Horcrux."

"Was?"

"Well, I went ahead and killed it right there. I couldn’t see any reason to wait."

"Is it cursed?"

"We don’t know. There was nothing obvious about it, but we haven’t touched it directly…just in case."

 

"What is that?" Hermione asked, pointing at the glass.

"That," Harry responded, "is the body of the Dark Lord. Or, at least, it _was_ his body." Both Hermione and Ron just stared. Then Harry pulled out his wand and spoke.


	46. The Last Dinner Together

Dinner was a rather fancy affair. Given it was Saint Valentine’s Day, Harry had planned some special things long before Saturday, and thankfully he didn’t have to do much to implement them. The day had been one of the most stressful in his life, and he needed some release…without the need to work too hard at it. As they sat down to eat, the table was decorated with fresh flowers, and the girls both found special treats awaiting them.

Days before, Harry decided that Ron was so romantically-challenged that he offered to pick out something special for Hermione himself. Ron quickly agreed, but said it was simply that Harry had more time and wasn’t cloistered at Hogwarts. In any case, before they sat down Harry pulled Ron aside and told him what he’d done so Ron could play his part.

When Hermione was seated, she got curious and pulled on the ribbon, opening the box in front of her and finding an assortment of very fine chocolates, and another package…from Victoria’s Secret! She looked at Ron and blushed a little, concerned that she might not wish to open it in front of everyone. Ginny, on the other hand, demanded to know…and Hermione begrudgingly complied. Though they were the best of friends, the girls gave each other no quarter on certain things.

Hermione’s face went completely red as she lifted the lid, matching the colour of the very sheer babydoll set she found inside. Ginny giggled, mainly as a reaction to Hermione’s obvious discomfort.

“Come on, Hermione,” she said. “Hold it up so we can all see it.” Hermione refused to be intimidated, especially by Ginny. She set her jaw and pulled it out of the box, holding it up by the straps. Ron promptly descended into a fit of coughing and Ginny and Harry started laughing at their friends’ predicament. Hermione put it back in the box and then decided to have some fun herself.

“So, what’s in that box, Ginny?” Ginny was a little concerned as she looked at Harry. She overheard his conversation with Ron, so she knew that Harry had actually purchased both gifts. That probably meant she had something equally…risqué, but she wasn’t about to complain. Given her situation growing up, she seldom was treated as a girl, and almost never as a woman…at least not until she and Harry began courting. Now, however, things were different. But that was still her brother sitting across the table. _Oh well, he’ll just have to deal with it, won’t he._

Ginny pulled the end of the red ribbon, untying the bow and freeing her to lift the lid. Like Hermione, she found a large heart-shaped box of very fancy Swiss chocolates…and another box. Slowly she opened it, both excited and apprehensive about what she might find. At first she wasn’t sure what it was. It was silk…that much was obvious! It was red, yet not quite the flaming red that Hermione had discovered, for bright red didn’t really work for Ginny’s colouring. As she began to run her hands between the folds, the garment began to take shape.

It had very narrow straps…and…and… _holes_ in somewhat strategic places. The body was very sheer…and not very long. Like Hermione, she just decided she didn’t care, and held it up, timing her move very carefully. Hermione just grinned, but Ron exploded, sending his mouthful of champagne everywhere. The three of them laughed at his response, which, of course, provided a distraction and let Ginny completely off the hook for what she had displayed. At least, she thought she was off the hook.

“What else is there, Ginny?” Harry asked in a deceptively innocent voice. She looked underneath and found a matching set of knickers, which also featured a discretely omitted panel. Hermione demanded to know, so she held them up also. Ron never stood a chance. He had just cleaned up the first mess…and promptly made another. Hermione just grinned, both at Ginny’s present…and Ron’s distress. Somehow, for all of them, the stress of the day disappeared in an instant.

During dinner, they talked about things that had happened earlier but by tacit agreement, they steered clear of Harry’s memory. Ron was still curious about something else.

“Harry, did you and Dumbledore ever talk about that time with Snape?” He still wasn’t sure he understood exactly what happened.

“No. Well, not directly. Every time I raised the question, he just said he trusted him…and he had his reasons. When I asked about things…like when I saw him talking to Malfoy last year…he simply said it didn’t change anything. I think Snape was telling him some of what was going on and he still thought Snape was playing the spy. At times, he was even a little testy since I kept asking.”

“What do you think he was doing, Harry?” Hermione asked. Like Harry, she still wasn’t sure where Snape’s loyalty had been until the night he killed Dumbledore. Harry considered his response.

“I don’t know, Hermione. At times, I think he was always a Death Eater, serving as a spy for Voldemort the whole time. Sometimes…other times, I think he was spying for Dumbledore. I mean, well, he did tell Dumbledore some of what Voldemort had planned. I guess…well, I _really_ think he was playing in the middle of the road, and he didn’t realize that sooner or later, he would get hit by the traffic. I don’t know if he knew what he was doing.” Harry paused, thinking he still didn’t know…and probably never would. Severus Snape would forever remain an enigma.

Hermione considered the same things…and came to largely the same conclusions. However, she perceived something that Ron missed.

“Harry, how much more was there? The part you didn’t let us see.” Harry looked up. He was initially surprised, but he knew Hermione recognized things that others missed.

“Not a whole lot more. Just…just a little bit.” It wasn’t that he wanted to keep it a secret. It was just…well, it made more sense to him than anyone else. It wasn’t painful or anything…not really.

“What did he say, Harry?” Hermione asked very gently. He understood she was giving him permission to refuse if he wanted. It wasn’t that important, but she thought it might make sense…or it would help her make more sense of what she’d seen.

“Snape started crying all over again,” Harry said, deciding how much else to reveal. _Should I tell them? Would they understand? Does it matter? No, they’ve already seen so much, it wouldn’t change anything._ “At one point he begged Dumbledore to kill him. He wanted to die because he’d done such terrible things. I think he was talking about other things…not just the prophecy. Dumbledore refused.” Ginny and Ron were shocked, but Hermione seemed to have expected something like that. They were all silent, each evaluating what he had said.

“What did Dumbledore say to him?”

“It’s kind of ironic. Dumbledore told him he wouldn’t kill him. He said that Severus owed it to the people he’d hurt to stay alive, do to something worthwhile with his life.” Harry stopped. That seemed so funny. _Dumbledore told Snape he needed to make something of his life…and all he did was make life miserable for every student that he touched…especially me! But…but…he did save me from Quirrell. I **still** don’t understand that. _

Hermione seemed to expect something like that. She smiled a little, not smugly, but just a little smile of understanding. Severus Snape was, and always would be, a very complex man. Like Voldemort, there was no one close to him, for he did not allow it. His days as a student at Hogwarts were largely solitary, and his affair with Narcissa left him embittered and hardened, disappointed yet again when others found him unworthy. Whatever his faults, he was simply overwhelmed by the world he found himself struggling to please. He was, for whatever reason, simply ill-equipped to deal with the hand life dealt him. His self-doubt made him an excellent candidate for Voldemort’s recruitment.

  


After dinner, they retreated to the drawing room and a roaring fire. There was more champagne and lots of small talk. Each couple claimed one of the couches and they talked about anything and everything. They collapsed in laughter as Ginny described Molly’s response when Bill mentioned that he and Fleur were planning to start a family immediately. It wasn’t so much the fact of it…it was her reaction when George said something about Granny Molly.

As the clock ticked its way toward midnight, two things happened. The alcohol they had been consuming began to have its cumulative effect AND they began to think more about what was going to happen later. Playful snogging replaced portions of the conversation more and more often, and hands began to roam a little less discretely. 

Harry quietly slid his fingers along Ginny’s back and deftly unclasped her bra. She giggled, but did nothing to dissuade his playfulness. Hermione began to tease Ron, quietly running her hand along his inseam while he was trying to explain how the Ravenclaw chaser had lost the Quaffle. When that didn’t stop him, she grew a little more bold and simply unbuttoned more and more of her top until…well, until it wasn’t buttoned at all. Harry decided they could probably pair off right there in the drawing room, if Ron could deal with Ginny’s activities. He just couldn’t quite forget she was his little sister yet.

Ginny started moved around, squirming until her bra was completely wadded around her shoulders and Harry’s hands were playing with her breasts. Finally she just said the hell with it, removed her top and bra, and climbed deeper into the arms of her lover. Hermione took the hint. She decided that if Ginny could get comfortable, she could too. Her blouse was already open, so she removed it and then Ron’s shirt. After a quick glance at the other couple, she popped the clasp on her bra and it joined the pile on the floor.

Although the conversation did continue from time to time, there were long periods of relative silence. It wasn’t overt sexual activity…usually. Everyone was just comfortable being together with the people they loved, and the warmth of the fire penetrated their skin and joined the warmth within their hearts.

Eventually, Harry decided it was time to head for bed. He disentangled himself from Ginny and slowly got up, stretching his unsteady legs to make the muscles work again. He reached down and lifted Ginny to her feet, pulling her into his arms. After a brief kiss, he turned to look at Ron and Hermione. A rather groggy Ron rolled over a bit, and Hermione got up, quite unconcerned about her lack of clothing. She walked over to Harry and put her arms around him.

She didn’t speak, but simply reached up to kiss him. When he offered his cheek, she turned his head, seeking his lips instead. He didn’t protest, and she gave him a very long and intimate kiss. Harry wasn’t sure what to think. His mind was still somewhat dulled from the champagne, but he could feel her lips touching his, her breasts pressing into his chest…and Ginny’s hands roaming elsewhere. Hermione didn’t seem to want to let go, and…well. Harry wasn’t sure what to do.

The sensations were wonderful, and he could feel Ginny reaching towards his erection. Then he realized that it wasn’t just Ginny’s hands stoking him. Both the girls were playing with him…and he couldn’t say he found it unpleasant. Over Hermione’s shoulder, he could see Ron, basically passed out on the couch. _I should probably stop this. I mean, Ron’s right there. But I like it. I don’t really want to stop._

Finally, Hermione backed off a bit, and Harry decided it was time to move along. He started to take Ginny’s hand, but she stopped for a minute and turned. Harry just watched as she took a step forward and…kissed Hermione. Harry wasn’t shocked…it seemed kind of natural in a way. And he certainly didn’t mind what he was seeing. Both girls were…well…naked…at least from the waist up, and four beautiful breasts were twice as much fun as two.

After they kissed, Ginny stepped back, grinning, and Harry was again conflicted. Hermione was his best friend. She was engaged to his best friend. But her eyes, her smile, and her body language said she wanted to spend some intimate moments with Harry…AND Ginny. He smiled in return, blew her a little kiss, and then departed with Ginny. Once in their room, Ginny immediately pushed him to the bed.

“So, do you want to…you know…with Hermione?” Harry just wasn’t sure how to respond. This was his wife, almost, and she was asking him if he wanted another woman. She sounded excited by the idea, and he just didn’t know what to say.

“I…I don’t know, Ginny. Are we supposed to do that?” She grinned.

“I think we can do whatever we want.” Even though he was still a little impaired by the alcohol, Harry concluded two things. The first was that Hermione was up for the idea. The second? So was Ginny! _I wonder what Ron thinks? I wonder if Hermione cares what Ron thinks? Dumb! Of course she cares! His eyes went wide. I wonder if they’ve talked about it?_ At that point in his thinking, Ginny interrupted by removing his remaining clothing and he refocused on the here and now.

  


Sunday arrived late for both couples. Harry and Ginny were tired and slept late, waking from time to time, touching and caressing each other, and then dozing off again. Hermione was in a playful mood, and she continually teased and tormented Ron. He didn’t complain much since her play involved fun for him too. She sat on top of him, and moved just often enough to maintain his…interest. She would lean forward and offer her breasts…then withdraw them when he tried to respond. Ron just played along and enjoyed the view.

At breakfast, which was more like lunch, the talked about the coming fight. They all knew it would be war, and down deep they knew there would be casualties. For some reason, they all assumed they would survive. They weren’t ignoring the truth, and it wasn’t over-confidence, they just felt like they had prepared well and things would work out.

  


In the evening, they returned to the school, and Harry went with them. It was time to talk with Dumbledore again. In the entry to Minerva’s office they said their good-byes. Ron gave Harry a hug and left, headed for meeting with the Prefects. Harry kissed Ginny and she left, leaving Hermione alone with Harry. They both looked at each other, neither certain what to say.

“I…er…thank you, Hermione. I…don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t there.” She immediately grabbed him and pulled him close. They were as close as friends could be, and could easily become lovers if they wanted to. She looked into his eyes, speaking volumes without opening her mouth. He knew. He simply knew. She would always be there for him, unrelated to Ron or Ginny or anyone else. They were as close as two people could ever be.

“Professor, have I missed anything?” Harry concluded, after explaining what had happened and what they had done. Dumbledore smiled.

“Harry, I believe you have done everything. I am very impressed,” he said, his expression changing into something far more serious. “I can only attempt to understand how terrible it must have been for you to see your own memory, Harry. It took more courage than most people could imagine to do that.” Harry just nodded. It was over, and he decided he had to move on.

“If you are correct, and I see no reason to believe you are not, then the stage is fully set. You have, I believe, correctly identified Lord Voldemort’s greatest weakness. He does not understand your strength. But more than that, he overestimates his own. You have wounded him greatly, and he can not abide that happening. He MUST respond for he is trapped by his own arrogance. Losing the Horcruxes would mean losing the one thing that makes him special.” Dumbledore smiled again.

“Harry, you will need to consider your friends very carefully. Hermione and Ron…and Ginny will all want to join you.” Harry nodded. “I think you should let them. You saw what happened when they were here…when you dealt with the hat.” Harry nodded. He’d seen the difference in the spells and he knew what happened…and why. “They will be at risk, but you will wound them greatly if you do not allow them to help you.”

“I decided long ago to have them with me. I know…well, it has to be me in the end, but I can’t do it alone. What I’ve done…what I’ve found…wouldn’t have happened without them…all of them.” Dumbledore put his fingers together and then peered at Harry.

“I have never been prouder, Harry…of anyone I’ve taught. You have listened…you have tried…and you have learned. Good luck, Harry.” Harry got up, wishing he could touch the real Dumbledore. On his way out, he grabbed the Sorting Hat. He needed it for a while.


	47. The New Marauders

“I AM NOT HAPPY!” It was a pointless statement, given that everyone in the circle could already sense the obvious. The Dark Lord was inflamed, and without exception his followers were looking for cover.

“For years, I planned. I worked. I struggled until I discovered magic so strong that no one would ever be able to challenge my supremacy. ME! Lord Voldemort!” He looked around the circle seeing many old faces, people who had been with him since the beginning. He began to single them out.

“You! While I was working hard in school, making every effort to learn all I could, you were slacking…accepting detentions without complaint because you could not see the future.”

“And you! Busy playing Quidditch while there was work to be done, your time spent sitting on a broom when you should have been sitting in the library.” He paused for a moment and looked up to the sky, as if searching for an answer in the myriad of stars shining in the winter sky. Then he looked back down.

“According to a muggle,” he began again, pointing up at Orion, “right there, hidden amongst the stars of Orion, is the most powerful force in the universe. Can you see it, Crabbe?” The Death Eater in front of him looked up, following his arm to where he was pointing. _What is the right answer? I don’t see anything, but maybe something is there. What should I say?_

“I…I…don’t see it, my Lord.”

“Of course you don’t. BECAUSE IT DOESN’T EXIST!” he screamed. Everyone jumped, not certain what he was talking about. “There is only one great power in the universe. There is only magic! And the most powerful magic is that kept secret, feared precisely because it IS the most powerful.” Anyone watching would have observed a masterful performance, an act unscripted but nonetheless worthy of an Olivier.

After 45 minutes, the Dark Lord finally reached his conclusion, warning them all that they were expected to make new sacrifices. He had been attacked, and he would not retreat. They would find those responsible and confront them wherever they were. He had not come this far just to fail.

  


That same Sunday night, at exactly the same time, another, much calmer meeting was discussing the same subject. In a poorly lit café, just before closing time, Harry Potter met with Edward Lighthorse to plot the downfall of Lord Voldemort.

“Are you certain it will be that night?” Harry nodded.

“If the article reports that the Horcruxes will be executed, he has to respond. He’ll have no choice. If he thinks it will happen the next day, he’ll do everything he can to stop it. But, he would not choose to come during the day…when everyone in the Ministry is at work. He will attack at night, when he assumes the department will be vacant…at most a guard or two.” Harry decided to explain some more.

“Voldemort is a creature of the night. He likes the darkness, because he thinks it brings him strength. He assumes that everyone else fears the dark, because he does. So, he does things at night because he assumes people are weaker then. He projects his own discomfort to others. He can more easily hide. Look at all the attacks since he returned. Every one happened at night.” Lighthorse mentally reviewed what he knew. Harry was right: everything happened at night.

“And you’re sure he will come?” Harry nodded.

“The Horcruxes are the single biggest investment he has ever made. They are his claim to being unique. He says he is immortal and can not die. If that is taken away from him, who is he? By showing everyone his body, I’m taking away his power, and Voldemort is all about power.” Then Harry changed directions. 

“His greatest fear, his ultimate…phobia, is that he is ordinary. If you could prove he was nothing special, he would…I don’t know, he might even…kill himself.” Lighthorse smiled. “No, I’m serious. He could not abide being a normal person, just an ordinary wizard. He MUST be special. He MUST be different. He…well, he just has to be.”

“Voldemort controls his minions by creating fear and showing them a good time. He allows them to torture muggles and distribute other mayhem as rewards. He takes the weak and lets them feel strong and special. But he controls them by fear. He says to them ‘I’m better and more powerful than you’ and he backs that up by being mysterious and different. Because they are weak, and because they fear him, they do his bidding. If you take away that fear, someone will challenge him. Maybe not today, but some day.”

“Lucius might, if he were free. He sees himself as just as powerful as Voldemort, and if someone said Voldemort is vulnerable, Lucius would jump at the chance to replace him. And Lucius would be just the same. Lucius believes in purity of blood, and that his ancestry makes him different…and special. And in Voldemort, he found a place that reinforces those ideas.”

Lighthorse thought about that. Harry’s description of the Death Eater social structure certainly seemed likely, and Harry had seen them a couple of times, once when they were all together with Voldemort. He knew more than anyone else. He knew!

“How soon would he show up?”

“I would think the earliest would be just after dark, but he might wait until later. A good general would attack in the morning, around two or three, when the normal person is most tired and wants to sleep, but Voldemort won’t wait that long. He is not a student of that kind of thing. If it comes to a battle…a confrontation, he knows only brute force and head on assault.”

“I thought he was sneakier that that. Wouldn’t he try to use an Imperiouis Curse and find a less-obvious way to deal with it?” Harry smiled.

“Under normal circumstances, he would. He did that with Rookwood years ago. He tried it with Bode when he was looking for the prophecy. But, and this is the most important thing, he doesn’t have the time. We’re saying it’s happening tomorrow, and he’s got to act fast. He’s in trouble…big trouble!”

“I want him mad. He will be! I want him worried. He is! I want him reacting, not thinking. He has to react! I want to take all the initiative away from him. We have! I want him operating on a purely emotional level. He will! He won’t see it, but all his choices have been removed from the table…just like Mundungus. He’s playing our game, not his own.”

Lighthorse was not a student of warfare. It wasn’t a topic taught in the Auror program. While he understood stealth…and concealment….and principles of tracking, he had no experience with the management of a situation. It just wasn’t in the scope of law enforcement. But he wasn’t stupid, and he recognized that Harry had thought this out very carefully. Short of the actual battle, Harry had considered everything, and he seemed to have an answer for why each step was taken.

“Can you get the Minister to agree?” Harry knew that was the last remaining obstacle, and the one thing he couldn’t do himself.

“He already has, Harry. He just doesn’t know it.” Lighthorse smiled, obviously very happy to present the Minister with a fait accompli. Having set this all up, he knew that Scrimgeour couldn’t say no…not without the whole Ministry collapsing.

“So, The Quibbler will come out on Friday and the report will say the executions will occur on Saturday.” Harry nodded. “Then, he will attack on Friday night.”

“That’s right. I want him to have no time to plan. If I’m correct, he will simply summon all his troops, issue a very limited set of directions, and then charge the fortress.” Harry grinned as he visualized a ragged band of mercenaries storming over the moat and trying to enter the castle. They would be outgunned, but more importantly out-planned!

“Then I have work to do, Harry. We need to meet again…say, the Thursday before?” Harry nodded and they left the café. The die was cast, and it was time to see what number came up. For Voldemort, the student of numerology, it was significant. With only one die, you can not roll a seven!

  


During the next two weeks, Harry was very busy. He had a million loose ends to tie up, and while none of them took very long, there were many to deal with.

He borrowed Colin Creevey just long enough to take a needed picture.

For the first time in nearly forever, he met face to face with Rita Skeeter, providing her with information in person in addition to the next article. Their meeting was more than interesting. Rita’s income had been very substantial lately. Luna’s father was paying her handsomely for the articles, and she was also finding other work as a spin-off of her byline in _The Quibbler_. The long fingernails, exaggerated make-up, and rather garish clothing had returned.

“Harry, this is going to provoke a response,” Rita observed. She might be many things, but she wasn’t dumb. She had concluded early on where these articles were leading. Harry just nodded.

“I want to be there…I want to see it.” Harry’s first reaction was “No!” He didn’t want another body in the fray. _What happens if she is caught in the line of fire? She has no experience in this type of thing. I can’t have somebody detailed to protect her._ Then he thought about something else. _Maybe…._

“Okay, Rita. I think maybe I know a way you can be there. And I may be able to solve another problem for you, too.” Her expression was priceless. Harry had offered her the scoop of the century, and now it was even sweeter. She could probably write a book based upon what she knew.

“What problem is that?”

“If you do everything I tell you, I may be able to legalize your…erm…unique skills.” She knew he was referring to her animagus transformation, an activity which the Ministry regulated harshly.

“And just how could you do that?” she asked, expressing her contempt for the fact that Harry and Hermione and Ron all knew about it.

“Well, since you have been very helpful in bringing Voldemort to bay, quite possibly the Ministry might be willing to…ah…overlook…the fact that you are unlicensed and make the necessary arrangements.”

“You don’t have that kind of power.” She spoke before she thought, for clearly he might. If, when this was all over, he was still the-boy-who-lived, then he could probably write his own ticket for almost anything, and a good word might make the Ministry to anything, especially something simple like this.

“You might be surprised what I can get done…if I ask.” Harry just grinned, knowing exactly the same thing. “Here’s the deal. I can arrange for you to be there, but you must remain transformed the entire time. The people fighting Voldemort can not take the time to distinguish which side you are on, and the Death Eaters won’t care. To them, you’re either a Death Eater, or your not. And people who aren’t will be killed.” He made it sound so simple. This was war, and she couldn’t be a “normal” war correspondent.

“There is one other thing,” he continued, knowing a little about what was likely to happen. There are a couple of places we might be that you cannot discuss…ever! The Ministry would tell you the same thing, but that comes from me. Understand?” She nodded, already thinking about the story she could write. _In a dramatic confrontation, Harry Potter, the-boy-who-lived defeated he-who-must-not-be-named once again, and this time forever._

That piece of the puzzle was completed, and Harry moved on. In every waking moment he reviewed every spell he could think of that he might need or use.

He took a minute to polish his wand, something he hadn’t done in…years.

On Wednesday, he met with Remus. Their time was a combination of review and test, with Remus creating situations and Harry responding. They set up the Room of Requirement as an obstacle course and Harry ran through it over and over, each time with Remus providing different challenges. As a surprise, he even threw in a boggart/Dementor. It wasn’t impossible, since Voldemort used all kinds of creatures as his proxies, that there might be one at the Ministry.

On Friday, Harry came back again, and this time he wasn’t alone. By now, Remus was aware of what was going to happen, since he and Tonks would be responding from Hogwarts once (and only if) it was confirmed that all the Death Eaters were at the Ministry. As Remus came down the stairs into his classroom, he found Hermione, Ron, and Ginny sitting with Harry.

“Harry, what do you want to do tonight?” Remus asked, his eyes on the others.

“We all need to practice. Just set things up like Wednesday, and we’ll all have a go at it. And I want all of us in the maze together, because we need to be ready to distinguish friend from foe. Remus smiled, immediately understanding that all four of them would be there at the Ministry. Although he had mixed feelings, he immediately thought of the days of the Marauders. _If James was going would Sirius and I stay behind?_ Before they could leave, the door opened and Neville and Luna walked in together, holding hands.

“Hi, Harry.” There was an awkward silence as Harry considered what to do and what to say. They weren’t supposed to know he was at the school, although it wasn’t nearly as secret as it might have been.

“Hi Neville. Hi Luna.” There was a moment or two of small talk, and then Harry wanted to get on with the practice. “I’m sorry, Neville, but we have some work to do.” He hoped Neville would understand, and he did. Just not exactly as Harry had planned.

“Harry, we’re coming with you.” _What! No. Not this time._

“Neville. I’m sorry, but…this time you can’t.” To his surprise, Neville just smiled…as did Luna.

“Harry,” Luna said, looking at Ginny and grinning, “we’ve already been through this before. The answer hasn’t changed.” She stopped, looked at Neville, and then pulled his arm around her. “We know what’s going to happen. We were there the last time, and we’re coming this time too.” Harry didn’t know what to say. It was the forest and the thestrals all over again. But there was a difference this time.

Two years ago, if he’d had to pick his team, Neville wouldn’t have been on it. He would just be overmatched. But now? _Neville met Snape head-on. When it was time to stand up, Neville stood tall. Ron and Hermione owe their lives to him. Neville looked death squarely in the face, in the form of his worst fear…and he conquered it! When he had to, he killed, which is more than I’ve done. All I’ve killed is some defenseless little Horcruxes._

Harry knew he still didn’t like it. The more of his friends were there, the more likely somebody close to him wouldn’t be around when it was over, and he didn’t want that on his conscience. But, was it his place to tell someone they couldn’t help when the world was in danger? Unlike Voldemort, he didn’t think he was God. Then it occurred to him.

“How did you know?” Neville just looked at Luna.

“She knew, Harry. She was reading the paper and said that the next article had to be the one.” Harry looked at Luna, again recognizing she was much more than she appeared to be. Inside, past that rather interesting exterior, and behind the sometimes crazy things she said, was a very intelligent individual. Unique, different, sometimes even bizarre. But nonetheless intelligent. There was a reason she was sorted to Ravenclaw. Harry offered them one more out

“There’s going to be a lot of them this time. Far more than the last time. And Bellatrix will be there, Neville.” Both Neville and Luna nodded.

“Harry, I can’t run away. At one time I would have gone just because my Gran would expect me to, and because…well, you know. But now, it’s different. It’s a job that needs to be done, and I need to do my part. I can’t say I’m looking forward to it, but then, I don’t think you are either. Not really. Our parents accepted their responsibility, even though it was…costly. Can we do anything less when our turn comes?”

Harry looked away. He knew…he’d known for years that the hat knew what it was doing when it put Neville in Gryffindor. Maybe no one else knew, but Harry knew. Neville wasn’t the smartest, he wasn’t the quickest, he wasn’t the best. But, hidden behind all those self-doubts from his childhood, there was a man who would do anything he could for his friends. And now was the time to let him show that.

The room was quiet, as each individual thought about what Neville had said. He was right. It was time to accept the responsibility that comes to each new generation. This time…it was their time. Harry looked at Remus and started to smile.

“Professor, I guess you need to make the test for six.” Then he started laughing. “It’s time for the New Marauders to take on the world, Moony.” Remus broke into a huge grin and stood up. They weren’t Prongs…and Padfoot…and…well. They weren’t. But it was the old gang all over again, ready for another great adventure.


	48. The True Story Revealed

Throughout London, it was probably the most anticipated news publication since _The Times_ announced the end of World War II. At least it was within the magical world. It would have been in the muggle world too, if they knew anything about what was going on. It was still dark on Friday morning, and every owl in the country was up, flying out with the news.

Luna’s father had printed more copies than the last two issues combined…and it still wasn’t enough! By his best estimate, every witch and wizard must have seven or eight copies each, not that he was complaining. The printing crew had no more than gone home before he called them back and started the presses again. In Diagon Alley, in Hogsmeade, in every other magical place of business, commerce came to a halt as witches and wizards sat down to read. The silence in the coffee shops and places like the Leaky Cauldron was palpable as the public learned what had been happening for the last 50 years.

When they unrolled _The Quibbler_ , they were immediately greeted with a full colour picture and huge flashing headline.

**Is the Dark Lord Immortal?**

 

**Not for Much Longer!**

 

****

If you could look behind the words, the picture showed the body of the Dark Lord, lying on a table. Set across the front edge of the table was an assortment of other items. A very strange assortment! Inside, the article told the whole story, in far more detail than might be expected.

**THE DARK LORD’S QUEST FOR IMMORTALITY**

In his quest for ultimate power, young Tom Riddle wanted one other thing…one thing no one had ever possessed before. Immortality! Not content to simply run the world, he wanted to do so forever, writes Rita Skeeter. 

So, exactly how do you become immortal? How do you live forever? The only well-known way is to possess a Philosopher’s Stone, with which you can prepare the Elixir of Life. But for Tom Riddle, that was too common…to mundane. It also created dependence. If you stop taking it, you would then perish, and he wanted something more permanent. He wanted something that no one else had. After his descent into the Dark Arts, he found what he thought was a way.

He discovered ancient magic that allows a wizard to rip his soul in half, and then remove a portion and hide it within an object. Being a man with no conscience, the process appealed to him for it requires the killing of someone else. It was, simply put, just his kind of thing. The objects thus used are called Horcruxes.

And though the need to kill would be enough to dissuade any normal wizard, Riddle wasn’t content to rip his soul only once. Believing in the power of certain numbers, Riddle decided he would rip his soul into seven pieces, each time making smaller and smaller parts. The last piece, the piece that he still possesses himself, is less than a tiny tidbit of his soul, and explains at least a part of his inhuman values and existence.

Along the way, Riddle decided that he would make both the killings and the resulting Horcruxes significant, at least in his own mind. With this goal firmly set, he began, and left a trail of death and sorrow behind him. Each killing should be someone important, and in most cases, they were innocent people who at some point simply got in his way. The objects are even more intriguing, for they reflect his obsession with his own importance.

The first killing, done during his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, happened when he released a basilisk within the school. The snake encountered Myrtle Spencer, who was killed. At the time, young Riddle realized he couldn’t release the snake again, though he certainly wanted to, and created an enchanted diary, placing a piece of his soul within it with the hope that the snake would be released again some day. It was, but his plan was thwarted by Harry Potter. It was the third time they confronted each other.




The story went on, detailing each known death and the resulting Horcrux. Where he could, Harry identified the victims, the rationale for the killing, and the hiding of the Horcrux. He also pointed out that not every Death Eater remained loyal, taking a chance to rehabilitate Regulus Black and cast additional doubts about Severus Snape. The final paragraph delivered the punch that Harry knew was sure to provoke action.

After discussions within the Ministry of Magic, it has been decided that the body of the Dark Lord and the various Horcruxes will be sent to the other side in the execution chamber. This is scheduled for Saturday morning at 9 AM. In a break from normal policy, there will be no public attendance during these executions. 


* * *

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	49. A Confrontation in Darkness

It was time.

Harry had completed every step on his list, and there was nothing left to do but let events run their course. He had prepared for every eventuality he could imagine, even those he thought highly unlikely, but he was smart enough to know that things would still happen he hadn’t considered. As Dumbledore’s Army returned from their tour of the entire Department of Mysteries, he discussed with them likely scenarios and the best ways to deal with them…which doors to use, where the less-traveled routes where hidden, and which areas to avoid.

“Remember, Voldemort will have whipped them all up to a fever pitch. Last time, they didn’t want to kill because he needed the prophecy. This time, don’t be surprised if they start right off with a killing curse, because he doesn’t care how many bodies he leaves around. For him, this **IS** life and death. His life, our death!” They all nodded their understanding. “I have one other thing for you,” Harry continued, reaching into his robe pocket and pulling out six little bottles.

“What is it, Harry?”

“I got this from Slughorn, a long time ago. I got it just for tonight. It’s Felix.” Ron just grinned. Neville’s eyes went wide. Luna was looking at the bird trapped inside the bell jar of Time and didn’t seem to be listening. Hermione and Ginny somehow weren’t surprised.

“Does it really work, Harry?” Neville asked, knowing what it was but nothing more.

“I’ve only used it once, but it worked for me. Ron thought he used it, and it worked for him. Beyond that, I don’t really know. But can it hurt?” Everyone except Luna nodded.

“I can’t drink it. My father did a study one time, and found out it contains an extract of bat spleen, which will cause you to go crazy.” Everyone else had the same reaction to what she’d said, but disguised it in different ways. Ron just stared, stuck in disbelief that anyone would turn down the chance to be lucky, especially given what they were facing. Ginny started coughing and turned away to cover her face. Hermione just smiled, no longer amazed by anything Luna believed. Neville just seemed to accept her refusal.

“Okay. Erm…well, it’s here if you want it,” Harry carefully responded and everyone except Luna took a bottle and drank it down. It ever there was a time to “tweak the circumstances” this was it. Harry felt that familiar warmth infuse his spirit and he grinned at Ginny and then kissed her cheek. He had no worries as they moved into position for the coming confrontation. 

Harry Potter was bored. He had assumed his current position hours ago, standing in the hallway just outside the Department of Mysteries and thus far absolutely nothing had happened. He was draped with his invisibility cloak and sitting directly across from the lifts and the door to the janitor’s closet that held his friends. He started out standing, but after a while he sat down when he feared he would fall asleep and then fall over. He had dozed a couple of times, but he knew he would easily awaken if anyone came in. He now knew why Arthur had fallen asleep the night Nagini had bitten him, for he was sitting in the exact same place doing the same thing. Absolutely nothing!

During the first couple of hours, Harry learned the noises of the building, and now the steam pipe that squeaked, and the cable that shuddered in the air currents of the lift well were old friends. Once he watched as a mouse darted around the hallway and then returned to his hole, but other than that he had been completely alone. Inside the closet, his friends had taken turns napping while at least one stood guard at the door. Like Harry, they were sleeping light, ready to awaken at a moment’s notice.

In addition to Dumbledore’s Army, Lighthorse had pre-positioned five Aurors. Secreted within the various rooms of the Department, they included Mad Eye Moody, who had come out of retirement for one last go at the Dark Lord and Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had taken the day off from protecting the Muggle Prime Minister. If this worked, he could return to the magical world and leave the Labour Party to its own problems.

  


Well into the night, Harry left his post for a minute to visit the men’s room. He’d waited a long time and simply couldn’t put it off any longer. He might be able to fight on an empty stomach, but not on a full bladder. When he returned, he spoke with Ron and the others, allowing each of them to make the same relief trip. Then they all sat down to wait again.

  


Just after one in the morning, Harry heard some noise coming from the lift wells. The lifts weren’t moving, but he heard something different and his whole body sprang to life. Shortly afterwards, one of the lifts began to move, and he grabbed his wand. Things were finally going to get started! He could see the cables moving as the lift descended, making no stops on its way to the lowest floor in the building. When it arrived, the light from the cage flooded into the dim hallway and the friendly voice announced “Department of Mysteries.” Harry watched as the golden grille opened and several hooded figures got out.

“We will need to split up,” the leader said, pointing towards the door at the end of the hall. “The first room contains a number of doors, which lead to different study spaces. Do not touch anything. There are many dangerous things inside, and you could be attacked or harmed by touching them. You know what we are looking for, and they may be hidden anywhere.” The hoods nodded, and they began to advance slowly towards the door. “Remember, keep quiet. We do not wish to raise an alarm without reason.”

Harry did not recognize the voice, but he was certain there were more Death Eaters than he knew and he had never heard some of them speak before. Lighthorse didn’t have a current number either, and they both just assumed there would likely be a bunch of them, including some new recruits. Harry just sat still as they headed for the door, counting six as they passed by. He suspected his army would be outnumbered at the start, at least until additional aurors could be summoned from Hogwarts. It didn’t matter, for they had surprise and terrain on their side.

Before that group completely disappeared into the Department, both lifts began to move, the first going back up as the other descended. When it reached the bottom, another group got out with wands drawn. This bunch seemed far more alert, and scanned the hallway carefully before moving on. There were five, and none of them spoke a word, simply moving down the hallway towards the door. Harry thought he might recognize the walk of one of them, but dismissed it since it didn’t really matter.

After everyone disappeared into the department, Harry watched as the first lift returned again. This time there was no mistaking who had arrived, since everyone getting out of the lift had their hoods down. Harry quietly watched as Rodolphus and Bella Lestrange, Corbie Addlebrane, and Fenrir Greyback got out. There were now fifteen Death Eaters here, and Harry suspected there couldn’t be too many more to come. As they moved silently down the hall, Harry flexed his stagnant muscles and prepared to start taking action. When the door closed behind them, he stood up and quietly walked across the hall, knocking four times on the closet door. Hermione opened it, and Harry spoke quietly as they came out into the hall.

“There are 15 so far. Bella is here. No sign of Voldemort yet. They are searching everywhere, which means they will be spread out, most likely in groups of two or three. Remember what we talked about. We’ll work in pairs, and keep your hoods up to start with…that will confuse them and might make them hesitant to attack. The jinx I taught you will hold them indefinitely, and they can’t apparate out anyhow. But kill if you need to. This is not a time for half-measures.” Everyone nodded and pulled up their hoods. Neville and Luna went first, heading for the Hall of Prophecy. Ron and Hermione followed, going directly towards the Hall of Thought.

With this many Death Eaters deployed here, it was clear there wouldn’t be an attack at Hogwarts, and Harry took the next step in his plan, dispatching Fawkes to the school while Ginny waited. Harry leaned over and kissed her, and they set off. “Remember,” he whispered. “Non-verbal if you can…and I love you.” He squeezed her hand as they approached the door. There were now fifteen Death Eaters, five aurors, and six members of Dumbledore’s Army scattered throughout the Department of Mystery, and it wouldn’t be long before some group discovered the other.

  


The actual confrontation began quietly, clear back in the Hall of Prophecy. In the flickering darkness, Vincent Crabbe and his father stumbled near row 11, and Williamson, who was hiding behind a bookcase in the corner, took advantage of the situation to jinx both of them. In a room that large, the noise traveled, but no one else was close enough to hear distinctly and his actions went unnoticed by the others.

When Harry and Ginny reached the circular room, many of the doors had been propped open, and that prevented the room from rotating. They peered into a couple of rooms, and then headed for the Execution Chamber, suspecting that might be the focus of the search. Just inside the door, Harry could see Bella down in the well, examining some objects on the table next to the arch. With the exception of Voldemort’s old body they were decoys, but Bella was pointing her wand at each of them, searching for any signs of Voldemort’s soul. Harry was tempted to attack immediately, but decided that overall stealth was still more important and he and Ginny backed out quietly, hoping to find other options that might whittle down the numbers a bit.

About that time, the first noise of battle echoed through the Department as Luna and Neville tried unsuccessfully to pass by two distracted Death Eaters in the Hall of Time. A voice called out to them, and since they couldn’t ignore it, they chose to respond. “ _**Disunion Incarcio**_!” they yelled at the same time, and the Death Eaters both dropped to the floor. Knowing that the Anti-Disapparition Jinx would hold them indefinitely, Neville grabbed their wands and snapped them in half. Then he pulled Luna down behind a desk, waiting to see what developed next.

The noise, of course, prompted movement as people began to respond by heading towards the action. In the Hall of Prophecy, Gregory Goyle and his father abandoned their search near row 88 and turned to head back to the Hall of Time. Kingsley Shacklebolt had been stalking behind them, but now he found himself trapped between the Goyles and two other Death Eaters who came in at the end of the room seeking a route to the battle. He ducked back into a row and tried to let the newcomers go past him, but they apparently saw him run away and chose instead to come after him.

“ _**Petrificus Totalus!**_ ” The streak missed his head by inches and several glass orbs exploded.

“ _**Expelliarmus!**_ ” He returned fire, and a wand went flying, but a second wand fired back.

“ _**Petrificus Totalus!**_ ” This time the spell struck home, and Shacklebolt dropped to the floor, his wand rolling under the nearest shelf of prophecies. The first Death Eater recovered his own wand and the pair quickly turned to follow the Goyles towards the Hall of Time, content to leave Shacklebolt disabled but not dead as they responded to the larger fight brewing elsewhere. Again, because this was a relatively small action within a very large room, almost no one else knew what had happened.

Just as the Goyles reached the doorway next to Row 53, they ran into Williamson advancing from the corner. He had to choose, and unfortunately he choose Gregory. “ _**Disunion Incarcio!**_ ” The younger Goyle went down, his wand flying away into the darkness. His father wasted no time responding.

“ _**Avada Kedavra!**_ ” The green streak flew just as Williamson tried to duck, but he was not quite fast enough. His jump to the right only directed his collapse as he died. Goyle knelt down to his son but had no idea how to break the jinx that held him tightly within its grasp. “I’ll be back for you,” he said, and turned to get up and leave the room, planning to seek help for his son.

In the Hall of Time, Neville and Luna heard a noise at the door and again ducked behind the desk, peering out to see who was coming. They could only watch as an Auror, Auric Benjamin, quietly came out of a small side office. “ _**Avada Kedavra!**_ ” A green streak flew from the entrance to the hall, and he dropped to the floor without ever speaking. Rodolphus Lestrange had come to play…and he only played one way. Rough!

At the same time, Lighthorse came to the back door of the Astronomy Chamber, responding to the sounds of death coming from the Hall of Prophecy. He peered low around the doorframe, observing Goyle leaving his son. It was not a time for finesse, and he simply attacked. “ _**Avada Kedavra!**_ ” Goyle stopped instantly as the green streak enveloped him. His lifeless form remained upright for several seconds and then he fell backwards to the floor, landing on top of his son. Lighthorse saw others coming behind the bodies, and ducked back into the Astronomy Chamber, seeking cover from the moving planets and orbs.

Harry and Ginny were caught in the entry hall, and quickly backed into an open doorway and allowed several people to run into and out of the circular room. Harry wanted to remain out of the fight as long as he could, for he knew that if Bella or some of the others found out he was here, they would focus on him, and he needed to remain free to confront Voldemort when he arrived. Harry suspected it wouldn’t be long before he appeared.

Harry again started back into the entry hall, ready to get into the action when Rodolphus returned alone from the Hall of Time. “ _**Disunion Incarcio!**_ ” Harry’s spell slid off the shoulder of Rodolphus, and he immediately turned to face Harry, his face twisting into a sadistic leer when he recognized his prey.

“Well, well. It’s Potter himself. Afraid to use the big ones, Potter? Afraid to kill?” They both looked at each other, neither afraid but neither ready to move first. Harry slowly inched his way into the room, knowing that Ginny was hidden right behind him and ready to strike. He slowly moved sideways a little, clearing the door. It didn’t matter whether Ginny was seen or not…she could either strike herself, or simply provide a brief moment of distraction. Either way, Harry was prepared.

“If you want, I can kill. I’ve done it before. It’s no big deal to me…not with scum like you.” Harry was trying to bait Rodolphus, and it worked.

“So, you think you’re better than me, huh Potter. You, a filthy little half-breed.” He threw back his hood and laughed as he moved his wand. “Your mother and father got what they deserved, and now it’s time for you. _**Avada Ke….**_ ” His words fell incomplete as Ginny struck.

“ _**Genero Chiroptera!**_ ” Ginny’s bat bogie hex crashed into his face, and he screamed as he threw up his hands to ward off the attack. Harry wasted no time, following her strike with one of his own.

“ _**Disunion Incarcio!**_ ” Rodolphus fell to the floor, joining his brother as another victim of Ginny and Harry’s two pronged attack. Harry decided to drag him into the empty room, closing and sealing the door as he left. Ginny collected his wand and snapped it, preventing its further use in the fray.

“Ginny, we need to move. We are trapped here, and they can come out of any door.” He grabbed her hand and yanked her into the nearest open door. It was a poor choice, for it put them amongst the bouncing balls in the Hall of Gravity. It also brought them face to face with Corbie Addlebrane. He was, however, unprepared, and as Harry and Ginny advanced Corbie began to retreat, looking for some sort of cover. When the room widened a bit, Ginny moved away from Harry, remembering her training. _**Attack from the flanks…disperse and make your opponent cover two fronts.**_

They both continued to press forward, watching for any wand movement that might signify an attack. Finally, Corbie turned and ran, passing Theodore Nott and another Death Eater standing in the back of the room. He kept going, dodging the bouncing balls, not knowing where he was headed or what he might find. To his utter confusion, when he ran through the doorway into the Hall of Prophecy, there was Harry Potter, standing in front of him with his wand raised. “ _**Disunion Incarcio!**_ ” he yelled, and Corbie dropped, his body added to the pile of Crabbes. 

Harry heard the curse and immediately sensed what had happened. He saw Nott and the other Death Eater leaving through a door that connected to the Astronomy Chamber. That left him alone with Ginny for the moment. He turned to look at her, holding her shoulders as he looked straight into her eyes. “Listen, Ginny. This is very important… **very important! No matter what you see regarding me, do not panic. Do you understand? No matter what you see me do, no matter how confusing it is…don’t panic.** It will be okay.” Ginny nodded, completely confused by what he said, and unsure what he really meant. She had to go on trust.

By now, everyone knew the battle had been joined, and there were soon crashes and yells from every room. Hermione confronted two hooded figures trying to get out of the Hall of Prophecy and escape from Lighthorse. Her spell went wild as the first one conjured a shield charm, and then the room was filled with yells and streaks of light as both Death Eaters, Ron, Hermione, and Lighthorse started fighting. The two were cornered between Lighthorse driving them forward, and Ron and Hermione blocking their way and they had no choice.

Ron went down as a leg-lock hit home, but retained his wand and stayed in the fight from the floor. Hermione stopped one with a well-placed Impediment Curse, and Lighthorse finally got a clear shot and dropped the other. Hermione advanced cautiously and struck again. “ _**Disunion Incarcio!**_ ” she yelled twice, and one at a time, they were bound and out of the fight. Lighthorse freed Ron, and they collected the wands, snapping each in half and tossing them aside. 

Although no one knew it yet, two things had happened: the back end of the Department was completely cleared of Death Eaters…and for the first time, the Death Eaters were outnumbered. It wasn’t, however, very significant. In a confused battle consisting of many individual skirmishes, there was no one who could coordinate things on either side. For Harry and Lighthorse, there was one other consideration: the most dangerous Death Eaters were still at large.

As the remaining aurors and students began working their way towards the front, they found nothing, and that became rather disconcerting. Harry was sure there were more invaders around, and he began to fear that they had retreated and left the area. While it would be almost impossible for them to leave the Ministry, he had no desire to chase them through the offices of the upper levels.

Lighthorse, Ron, and Hermione worked their way towards the Execution Chamber, taking a back route through the Hall of Thought. Ron was in the lead, and didn’t like revisiting the room where he had been attacked by a brain two years ago. In fact, it was second only to his fear of spiders. He was trying to stay as far away from the tank as he could, when it was hit by a spell and exploded, sending brains and parts everywhere. For Ron, that triggered a very emotional response, and he began to ignore everything else in his desire to get away. Hermione saw him fall, taken down by some sort of spell that flew through the door and left him on the floor unconscious.

“Ron!” she screamed, and headed for him while Lighthorse tried to see where the spell came from. There was movement at another door, and Lighthorse headed toward it, leaving Hermione to tend to Ron. She knelt down, finding a pulse and breathing, but nothing else. He was hurt, although she couldn’t tell how badly. She had to get help, but she knew the way out was blocked.

In the Execution Chamber, things had suddenly become very confused. Mad Eye Moody had been sitting quietly in the corner under his invisibility cloak, waiting to get a clean shot at Bellatrix or Greyback who had joined her. He had been patient, both because he respected their abilities and because they seemed to be in no hurry. He didn’t like the odds with them both at the ready. Bella had finally moved back up the steps towards the main door, growing interested in the fight she could hear elsewhere. Moody started to remove his cape when the Death Eater who had attacked Ron backed through the door directly above him, trying to escape from Lighthorse. Moody’s plan was immediately destroyed when Greyback looked around and saw him starting to appear.

“ _**Impedimenta!**_ ” Greyback yelled, and Moody went down hard. Greyback just leered as he advanced and looked down at the grizzled old face. “Not quite as quick as you used to be, Mad Eye. I would have expected better.” Moody just lay there, unable to move as Greyback moved closer. “I could do it, you know. I could finish you right now, but I think maybe there’s someone else who would really like the honor.” He looked up, knowing another Death Eater who would enjoy dealing with his old adversary.

Ron’s assailant had jumped down the stone steps and taken cover behind a cabinet against the wall of the well while shooting a couple of un-aimed spells through the doorway. He had no hope of hitting anyone, but it did discourage Lighthorse from charging into the room. Abruptly, Bella screamed and ran out of the door to the entry, wand raised to attack as she saw a bunch of additional aurors coming to join the fray. These were the reinforcements from Hogwarts, and a couple of them charged into the entry hall, not knowing what they were running into.

Bella joined the fight with a vicious “ _**Avada Kedavra!**_ ” and Savage went down, never to rise again. Proudfoot was right behind him, and dropped to the floor, trying to use his body for cover. He lasted only a few seconds longer as Bella moved to her right and screamed again. “ _**Avada Kedavra!**_ ” In less than ten seconds, she had killed twice and was standing in the doorway to the Execution Chamber looking for more.

At that moment, Nott and his partner came out of a door on the other side of the circular room and were able to stun Dawlish, who fell back out into the hallway. They ran on into the circular room and crossed to the Execution Chamber, joining Bella just inside the door.

Quite by accident, the active Death Eaters had all been driven into the Execution Chamber. Though no one knew it, Dumbledore’s Army and the remaining aurors had them surrounded.

Making his way towards the front, Harry worked his way through the back of the Hall of Prophecy and into the Hall of Thought. In the process, he discovered Hermione, still trying to find a way to revive Ron.

“What happened, Hermione?”

“I don’t know, Harry. There was a spell that broke the tank, and then another one that hit Ron. He went down and….” She broke off, her voiced choked with emotion. Harry knelt beside her and looked down at Ron, sensing nothing really wrong with him beyond his unconscious state.

“Did you try Ennervate?”

“Yes, and it didn’t work. He hasn’t moved or said anything.” Hermione was growing a little more desperate with the passing of time. If he was just knocked out, he should be coming around again…and he wasn’t. Harry tried to remember spells as he watched the door to the Execution Chamber. Finally, an idea came to him.

“Move back, Hermione. Let me try something.” She scrabbled across the floor and took up the watch on the door, giving Harry more room to work.

“ _**Renovo Salus!**_ ” The spell created a blue fog that flowed very slowly from Harry’s wand, traveling rather leisurely until it reached Ron and wrapped him in a misty blue cocoon. Hermione’s eyes went wide as she watched, having no idea what Harry had just conjured. For almost the first time, Harry showed her something she’d never even heard of before. After a few seconds, the mist dissipated, and Hermione could see Ron clearly again. He still wasn’t moving, and she turned her head to look at Harry, wondering what else they could do. He didn’t seem concerned.

“ _**Ennervate**_ ,” he said quietly, and Ron immediately groaned. Hermione jumped up and grabbed Harry, certain that he had just saved Ron’s life. Harry didn’t think it was all that dramatic, but he could understand Hermione’s perspective. They hugged, and then Hermione thought of something else.

“Harry, where is Ginny?” She sounded very concerned. Harry just smiled.

“Hermione, listen to me.” He stopped, and she looked at him, a puzzled look covering her face. “Ginny is just fine. I don’t know exactly where she is right now, but she’s fine.” Hermione started to interrupt, wanting to ask how he could be so blasé in the middle of a battle. “Hermione,” he said, “I have to save Buckbeak.” Without another word, Harry left, working his way out of the room using side doors and other passages. Hermione just watched as he left, wondering what he was talking about. _Is Buckbeak here? Why?_

Overall, the battle had slowed. All the Death Eaters still active were hunkered down in the Execution Chamber, and everyone else was slowly working towards them. Neville and Luna had finally gotten moving again, and headed towards the entrance hall, stepping over the dead Auror in the Hall of Time. Harry and Ginny were headed towards the front, again fighting though the bouncing balls in the Hall of Gravity. Hermione was helping Ron back to his feet and they were about ready to continue. And then, the inevitable happened.

Remus was kneeling in the hallway outside near the lifts, trying to help Dawlish recover from the Stunning Spell that hit him. Tonks was peering carefully into the entry hall, watching to see that Bella or someone else wasn’t about to try another assault. Behind them both, the lifts came to life again. Remus turned to face the golden grills, and then immediately decided that made no sense. He was out in the open, completely without cover…and he had no idea what was coming down the lift!

In a flash, he grabbed Dawlish and together he and Tonks dragged him into the entry hall and through the nearest door. It was sealed, but a quick _**Alohamora**_ opened it, and they moved inside, finding Rodolphus bound and lying on the floor. Tonks closed the door just as Voldemort strode into the entry hall, accompanied by the Carrows. Knowing a little of the layout, Voldemort headed directly for the Execution Chamber, giving directions to the Carrows as he walked.

“There,” he said, pointing to the door to the Hall of Gravity. “Take that door and sweep around from the back. Kill anyone you see.” His instructions were simple…and deadly. Take no prisoners…deal death to anyone on the wrong side! Harry and Ginny were in the shadows inside the door and promptly moved back, seeking some cover as Amycus and Alecto walked in with wands drawn at the ready.

In the little room, Remus and Tonks worked to revive Dawlish and were finally rewarded with a groan, followed by a belch.

Harry and Ginny doubled back through the Hall of Thought and just reached the door to the entry hall when they heard someone speak. The sound came from the Execution Chamber, and to Ginny the voice sounded very familiar.

“Hello, Tom. Are you looking for me?” Ginny gasped and turned to Harry beside her, her face frozen in utter confusion….and no small amount of terror.

“It’s okay, Ginny. It’s actually proof that everything’s okay. Just trust me.” Ginny didn’t know what to think. She was talking to Harry beside her…while she was sure she heard Harry across the room. _Am I losing my mind?_ As she looked back, the door across the entry hall opened and then closed again. But there was no one there. 

Harry grabbed Ginny and pulled her back as Voldemort came back out into the entry. He saw nothing, and wasn’t interested in chasing Harry about. He would stay put and Potter would have to come to him. _I am the Dark Lord. Potter will come to me!_ With that, Voldemort returned the Execution Chamber and the battle began in earnest. 

As Voldemort descended the stone steps, heading to the bottom of the chamber, the veiled archway, and his Horcruxes, Greyback continued his exchange with Lighthorse. Neither of them wanted to go through the doorway, so the fight was largely an exchange of un-aimed spells. Hermione and Ron came up behind Lighthorse and together they considered their situation.

“Why don’t we back off and see what happens,” Hermione suggested. “They might think you’ve been hit and come to see. Maybe we can draw one them into the room.” Lighthorse wasn’t sure, but it seemed like a reasonable idea. Certainly what he was doing right now wasn’t resolving anything, and advancing meant going through the door where there was no cover available.

Lighthorse drew back into the chamber and Ron and Hermione headed for the entry door, blocking that escape. Slowly, Greyback and another Death Eater advanced, climbing towards the door while using every bit of cover they could find. When they reached the top, they cautiously peered in, seeing nothing in the darkness but empty space. Had they wounded their opponent? Was he hurt? Dead? Or had he given up and run away? They didn’t know, and very unwisely, they decided to search to find out.

 

In other rooms, additional skirmishes were about to occur. The Carrows had made it all the way back to the Hall of Prophecy and discovered Vincent Crabbe, his father, and Corbie Addlebrane bound and lying in a pile. In a trice, they had them back in business and they all set out again. Addlebrane and the Crabbes headed through the Hall of Time and the Carrows came forward through the Astronomy Chamber. Both groups were about to run into Dumbledore’s Army. For the moment the fight had turned into a bunch of potential encounters, with pairs and trios moving towards each other without knowledge.

Neville and Luna were still trying to get back into the action. They had come to the front of the Hall of Time, but every time they tried to leave, somebody else came through the entry hall. First it was Voldemort arriving, and then it was Voldemort chasing the elusive Harry Potter. Now they were ready to try again, but they heard noises behind them and turned to face three new adversaries.

Without discussion, they moved to opposite sides of the room, finding cover behind a desk and a bookcase. Neville quickly dropped Vincent, who blundered along without regard to the dangers that might exist. His father, however, was more fortunate and spotted Luna before she could attack.

“ _**Petrificus Totalus!**_ ” She went down, falling on the floor behind a desk. Neville responded while his attention was still on Luna.

“ _**Disunion Incarcio!**_ ” For the second time, the senior Crabbe hit the floor, bound once again against Disapparition. Addlebrane had been behind him, and screened from Neville. Now they were face to face.

“Is that the best you can do? It won’t hold him for long, you know.” The fight was beginning to take its toll, and Neville was growing mad. Although he knew Luna was probably not hurt, he still remembered dragging an injured and unconscious Hermione through this very room two years ago, and his patience was gone.

“I can do better. Would you like to see it?” Corbie just laughed. It was a mistake.

“ _**Avada Kedavra!**_ ” Addlebrane was hit, and his wand went flying as the life left his body. Neville didn’t even look up, he just ran over to Luna to free her from the body bind. 

Harry and Ginny heard the Carrows approaching, trying to fight their way through the bouncing balls. That gave them plenty of time to prepare, and within moments Amycus and Alecto were bound and their wands destroyed.

Neville freed Luna and together they collected more wands for destruction.

Remus, Tonks, and Dawlish now decided they needed to find the battle and came out of the empty room, leaving Rodolphus by himself again. They made their way into the Astronomy Chamber and then cut through to the Hall of Time. Harry and Ginny were in the back of the room dealing with the Carrows and didn’t see them. Neville and Luna were in the front were also unaware of the reinforcements on the move.

On the other side of the building, Lighthorse was retreating further, drawing Greyback and his partner into the Hall of Prophecy. Once again, the confusion and fog of battle were conspiring to create a meeting engagement, and once again, the Hall of Prophecy was destined to be the place.

Lighthorse turned to find Tonks and the others behind him and they narrowly avoided attacking each other. It was now four against two as Greyback and his partner advanced, still searching for the mystery someone they had been battling before. Lighthorse turned to talk with Tonks and find out what had happened, and Dawlish took the lead. But not for long. Greyback saw him, highlighted briefly in front of a flickering torch and struck first.

“ _**Avada Kedavra!**_ ” Dawlish went down and the odds were suddenly shorter.

“ _**Impedimenta!**_ ” Greyback’s partner spoke, and Lighthorse was caught turning back to the battle and thrown against a rack of prophecy spheres. Now the odds were only even.

Remus recognized Greyback and their duel began. It wasn’t pretty. For Remus, this was personal! Spells went flying as pieces of shelving, prophecies, and other furniture flew through the air. Ghostly figures materialized, spoke, and disappeared. Remus advanced, then retreated, constantly changing his tactics to confuse Greyback. Tonks took on his partner and made quick work of the situation, deciding this was no time for finesse. After she deflected a couple of stunners, she wanted this done.

“ _**Avada Kedavra!**_ ” Greyback turned to see his fellow Death Eater hit the floor. He was mad, and turned his attention to Tonks, firing a quick Leg Lock that dropped her to the floor, breaking her ankle in the process. Then he turned back, leering at Remus and goading him to action.

“Well, Remus. Now it’s just you and me.” Remus didn’t respond. “What’s the matter, Remus? Nothing to say.” Again, Remus held his tongue, looking for an opening. “You know, this is rather like a long time ago. I still remember when I taught you how to be a wolf. You should be thankful I gave you that lesson.” Greyback was trying hard to goad Remus, but he refused to succumb.

“Now, how about I deal with your little she-wolf…and then you and I can get serious.” He turned to shoot a killing curse at Tonks. Remus deflected it with a spell of his own, but before he could recover, Greyback stunned him and his wand went flying.

“Well, Remus, I guess our fun is really over now.” Remus didn’t respond, his face screwed up in pain from the spell and the ankle he twisted falling down. “I think it is time to finish this little game. I hate to kill another wolf, but since you’ve chosen the wrong side….” With a huge, exaggerated flourish he raised his wand.

“ _**Avada Kedavra!**_ ” The now-familiar green streak flew through the air, and for a moment he just watched. Slowly, very slowly, Greyback fell to the floor. Remus looked over at Tonks, her faced screwed up in pain, her wand still pointing where Greyback had stood. His soon-to-be wife had just lifted the burden that Remus had carried for years. Still very shaken, he got up and tried to help Tonks, but she refused. 

“Take care of Lighthorse first. He can still fight if you free him.” Remus turned his attention to Edward as Tonks just laid back and tried to gather her breath, her face covered in sweat. After a moment, Lighthorse was back on his feet, shaken but determined to carry on. He left Remus to tend to Tonks, and started towards the front, discovering Shacklebolt lying near the door. He freed him and together they headed towards the Execution Chamber and a confrontation with the remaining Death Eaters.

The battle had devolved into a pair of separate fights, but while the brawl in the Hall of Prophecy had run its course, the confrontation in the Execution Chamber was just heating up. And with the Dark Lord present in the room, things were bound to be different. He was determined to have his way this time, and he knew Dumbledore wasn’t going to suddenly appear to save the day. This time, it was about Voldemort and Potter…and no one else!

When he returned to the Execution Chamber, Voldemort was disgusted to see his former body lying on display. The bluster he displayed was actually a mask for the fear he was feeling. There, right in front of him, was proof that he could be killed. Even if it was a freak accident, it was still undeniable. He could die, and he wasn’t sure the steps he had taken to prevent his death were still viable. Harry had accomplished one of his major goals, even though he didn’t know it. He had shaken Voldemort to his very core for he could not deny what he could see.

From the top of the steps he commanded his follower to deal with his displeasure.

“Nott, transform that thing into something else.” Bella was heading up the stairs, ready to stand guard while the Dark Lord checked out the other items on the table, and she turned to insure that Nott was following the directions. She could sense, given the number of Death Eaters in the chamber, that maybe things hadn’t gone well elsewhere. She wasn’t going to go exploring to find out, but she had that sense and decided to remain near…near to the seat of her power.

When she reached the doorway, she turned to observe her Dark Lord walking down the last few steps, drawing closer to the items that she thought held pieces of his soul. As she watched, she heard a noise in the entry and turned back to make certain things were okay. Quickly, she moved through the entry hall and stood just inside the door to the Hall of Gravity. Harry and Ginny were right behind her, but decided to go around, still trying to get to Voldemort. They quietly headed for the Astronomy Chamber to cut past her.

Bella watched as Fudge, Percy Weasley, and Scrimgeour left the lifts and approached the entry. To say the least, it was an interesting combination of people. Scrimgeour was the old Head of Aurors, and like most former Department Heads, figured he could do better than the new guy. Fudge still thought he was in charge some days, and wanted to be around to claim the glory when it was over. Percy was simply a sycophant, seeking power by following his masters at every turn. As they were about to find out, they were all out of place in a pitched battle between good and evil.

 

Fudge entered first determined to see what was happening, his wand still stuck in his robes. Bella allowed him to come completely into the room and then struck.

“ _**Avada Kedavra!**_ ” Her scream was the first warning they had that the war was still on, and it was the last thing Fudge would ever hear. He fell forward without speaking a word, and Percy was suddenly completely exposed, like Fudge his wand in his pocket. Percy had never been in a fight before, had no skills in dueling, and was completely out of place. Bella swung her wand again, but for some reason chose a different approach.

“ _**Impedimenta!**_ ” Percy hit the floor, half in and half out of the room, his body effectively blocking the door. He wasn’t dead, or even seriously injured. But he was defenseless. Scrimgeour had his wand drawn and attempted to retaliate, firing a spell over the top of Percy without success. Bella couldn’t see Scrimgeour coming up behind, but she blasted at him now, her killing curse hitting the doorframe and throwing Scrimgeour and the door into the outer hall, knocking him unconscious. Percy was now completely undefended and helpless.

“Well. It’s another Ministry fool. Did you come to play with the big boys?” Bella was treating Percy like a child, and he suddenly realized that he was probably going to die.

“No…please,” he pleaded, holding up his hand in supplication. Bella just laughed.

“Can’t take it, huh? Well, let’s show you what it’s all about. _**Crucio!**_ ” Percy screamed as his body convulsed, wracked with pain. She held her wand pointed at him, thrusting it again and again to drive spasms of agony though his very being. Then she let up.

“That was just a little taste. Would you like some more?” Percy didn’t answer, he face still contorted. “I asked you a question! _**Crucio!**_ ” She struck again, and Percy screamed again and again as the spell tore at the fiber of his muscles. The noise drew the attention of everyone, and Ron and Hermione moved towards the entry, with Ron in the lead. When he got there, he immediately saw what was happening and responded without thinking.

“NO!” he yelled and jumped out into the circular room. “ _**Impedimenta!**_ ” His spell missed and Bella turned to face him, her face snarling in anger.

“Okay, I’ll let him wait. It’s your turn, little boy. _**Crucio!**_ ” Ron collapsed, which actually allowed Hermione to see for the first time.

“ _**Impedimenta!**_ ” she yelled, distracting Bella from her curse, forcing her to conjure a shield instead.

“ _**Impedimenta!**_ ” Bella returned the curse, and Hermione was thrown backwards, her wand flying away into the dark. Bella looked back at Ron. “I think we were interrupted, weren’t we. _**Crucio!**_ ” Ron screamed again as his legs flailed against the floor in uncontrollable thrusts.

Harry and Ginny were trying desperately to break through and intervene, but the doorway from the Hall of Time had been destroyed and they were forced to backtrack clear through the Hall of Prophecy to get out. There just wasn’t enough time.

Neville and Luna were much closer, and they came to the door ready to act. 

“It’s time for you to go away, little boy! _**Avada Kedavra!**_ ” Ron flew sideways just as the spell arrived, and did not move. Luna stared at the scene for a moment in utter disbelief. Then she acted.

 

“ _**Expelliarmus!**_ ” she screamed her voice nearly as shrill. She was moving as she fired, and the spell missed, just grazing Bella’s face. Bella turned and quickly returned fire. Luna ducked, and the spell flew over her head and hit Neville. He bounced off the doorframe and fell, uninjured but knocked to the floor. His wand was ripped from his hand, and he immediately scrambled to retrieve it.

Luna and Bella exchanged spells again, both conjuring shields at a distance of only a few feet. Bella turned briefly to check on Percy and turned around to face Luna.

“ _**Avada Kedavra!**_ ” Luna flew though the air as the spell left Bella’s wand, and for a moment it was quiet. Then her body hit the floor and it was over. Neville was still looking for his wand, but cried out as he saw what happened. Next door, Hermione had recovered and found a rage inside she had never known before. From within the shadows of the room, she stepped over Ron’s body and attacked, using a spell she had only heard before.

“ _**Crucio!**_ ” Bella screamed and dropped her wand, falling into a ball and rolling on the floor in agony. Other than Snape, Hermione had never tried to hurt anyone before, but her righteous anger fueled her wand, and Bella’s pain was beyond description. Hermione lifted her wand.

“That was for Ron! This is for Luna! _**Crucio!**_ ” Hermione willed her wand to greater force, and Bella was bounced around the room, her muscles contracted into massive knots, trying to consume themselves. Her shrieks could be heard everywhere, and Voldemort started up the stairs, concerned not for Bella but that the situation was out of control. Hermione lifted her wand again, her face locked in grim and sweaty determination.

“This is for Neville, and his parents…and for Harry.” Hermione slowly raised her wand, bringing it high over her head, as if the dramatic down-stroke would create a larger effect. “ _**Avada Kedavra!**_ ” Bella watched the wand rise, and almost had time to flinch before the spell struck. Her body flew across the room and bounced against the wall. She would torment no one again.

For a moment there was silence, broken only by Percy’s sobs. He had seen his brother step up to protect him…and pay the price. He had seen Luna, whom he hardly knew, step up and fall in his place. He had turned his back on his family and others who might have been his friends, and yet, when his very life was in danger, they had risked everything for him. They died to save him, and he began to sob uncontrollably.


	50. The Twist of Time

As Harry and Ginny tried to work their way towards the front, they were blocked at every turn. Finally, they headed clear back to the Hall of Prophecy, knowing there were several other ways to reach the front from there. As they ran through the Hall of Time, Harry grew more and more concerned. He knew what he had to do…or rather, he knew part of what he had to do. What would happen if he did the wrong things? _How can I tell when I should act. I can’t! There’s no way to know._

They ran into the Chamber of Horrors and quickly advanced to the front, finding bodies here and there, but no one alive or moving. When they finally reached the entry hall, Hermione and Neville were on the floor, looking into the Chamber of Love. Remus was supporting Tonks and they stood, looking through the same doorway. While Ginny was staring at the door, mesmerized by the voices she could hear, Harry looked around. Ron and Luna were both lying dead on the floor. _I can’t wait. I have to go. Merlin, I hope I get this right._ He pulled Ginny aside for a moment, trying to deal with her confusion.

“Ginny, I know you are confused, but you have to believe me. It’s okay. Don’t DO anything.” Ginny didn’t understand. Harry had moved to one side, shielding her from seeing the bodies that would have upset her. They slowly walked over to the door, drawn by the voices. Harry quietly slid back into the Astronomy Chamber. Once there, he reached into his robes and pulled out the Time Turner that Lighthorse had given him so long ago. Very carefully, he turned it twice and disappeared.

Back in the entry hall, Ginny gasped as she saw Harry inside, talking to Voldemort. When she turned back, she discovered that Harry was gone. _How did he get in there?_

  


_I don’t know everything I did…or need to do. I…well, the first thing I know was when Corbie ran away, so…_. Harry was conflicted. He could simply run around, dealing with whatever came up. But…should he do that. If he did, and he changed something that shouldn’t have been changed, then what. He could really screw things up, and someone might die. He decided to try something else, and pulled out the extra bottle of Felix…the bottle that Luna didn’t drink. _I’m just going to have to trust._

Quietly he pulled on his cloak and walked back to the Hall of Prophecy. He would be early, but he knew where to start.

He assumed a place in the corner, not far from where Williamson was camped out. Harry remained invisible. His instinct told him to wait until Corbie showed up, regardless of what else happened around him, and so he did. The battle began. Death Eaters and Aurors alike were bound or killed, but Harry just sat, knowing the whole outcome depended upon his patience. Finally he heard noise coming towards him and stood, ready to respond if this was Corbie.

As Corbie came into the room, he was looking ahead, unsure what to expect. Harry and Ginny were behind him, but well back and out of range at the moment. He turned and looked right, his eyes searching down the long rows of the hall. When he looked left, Harry suddenly appeared out of nowhere, his wand drawn.

“ _**Disunion Incarcio!**_ ” Corbie fell backwards, landing on top of Vincent Crabbe and his father. Harry knew others would be coming, and quickly pulled on his cloak again. _Where do I go next? What should I do?_

The only thing he knew for certain was that he needed to end up at the front, taunting Voldemort into the Chamber of Love, so he headed that way. For some reason, he felt that the best route was to head for the Hall of Thought, so he did. As he went forward, he found Hermione kneeling over a fallen Ron. _Do I help them? Yes, I have to. Ron was up front when we got there, so he must get better so he can get there!_ He pulled off his cloak again and then spoke.

“What happened, Hermione?”

“I don’t know, Harry. There was a spell that broke the tank, and then another one that hit Ron. He went down and….” Harry knelt down, using one of the spells from his father’s book to see what he could tell. Ron was alive, and apparently just unconscious.

 

“Did you try Ennervate?”

“Yes, and it didn’t work. He hasn’t moved or said anything.” Harry knew he’d seen something that should work, but he couldn’t remember it. _I know I’ll think of it, because Ron doesn’t stay here._ With that positive thought, Harry immediately remembered what he wanted. It was a healing spell that undid concussions and things like them.

“Move back, Hermione. Let me try something.”

“ _**Renovo Salus!**_ ” Harry had never used the spell before, and he found the blue mist very interesting. He wasn’t sure what it was doing, but when it was gone, he decided to proceed. _I think it worked. Let’s see if I can wake him up._

“ _**Ennervate**_.” Harry watched as Ron groaned and tried to roll over. Hermione grabbed him, hugging Harry as if he’d brought Ron back from the dead. Then something else occurred to her.

“Harry, where is Ginny?” 

“Hermione, listen to me.” He stopped, and she looked at him, a puzzled look covering her face. “Ginny is just fine. I don’t know exactly where she is right now, but she’s fine.” Hermione wasn’t listening, and something told Harry he needed to move on. “Hermione, I’m out saving Buckbeak.” _Let’s see if she understands that. I don’t want to say anything more_. As he walked away, he could see the puzzled look on her face.

_What do I do next? I need to get Voldemort into the Chamber of Love_. Harry headed towards the Execution Chamber, leaving his cloak in his robes and using a spell to maintain his invisibility instead. It was just easier, and didn’t impair his wand should he need it. He walked into the entry hall, seeing no one, and proceeded on to the Execution Chamber, entering and seeing Voldemort down on the stone steps.

“Hello, Tom. Are you looking for me?” Harry said as he released the spell and became visible again. Voldemort turned around, his eyes glowing like great fiery coals. Harry immediately retreated, again becoming invisible as he headed towards the Chamber of Love. He was going to lure Voldemort into the chamber, but then discovered something that made him change his mind. Ron and Luna weren’t lying on the floor. _I’m too early…other things haven’t happened yet._

With this discovery, he changed his mind, entered the Chamber, and simply waited for events to continue their course. As the door closed, he thought about what else he knew. _Ron and Luna are both on the floor. Something happened. There are others too. There were people out in the hall. Am I involved in any of that? Should I do something?_

His reverie was interrupted by noise coming from the entry, and he decided he had to go see. He’d decide what to do as things unfolded. When stepped out, he found Bella…and Percy lying on the floor.

“No…please,” 

“Can’t take it, huh? Well, let’s see what happens. _**Crucio!**_ ” Harry watched, somehow knowing he shouldn’t do anything yet. It wasn’t enjoyable, and he could stop it, but Felix was saying don’t. She continued on, and then Ron appeared and Harry knew he needed to do something.

“Okay, I’ll let him wait. It’s your turn, little boy. _**Crucio!**_ ” Ron was screaming, and then Bella hit Hermione and she disappeared into the darkness within the room behind her. Bella turned her attention back to Ron, using Crucio again, and then deciding to kill him. _I’ve got to act, or he’ll die. But she’s got to think she killed him._ Harry never knew why, but the spell immediately came to him. _I’ve got to time this just right._

“It’s time for you to go away, little boy!” Harry pointed his wand, thinking the spell he could not say. _Imitabilis morde!_

“ _**Avada Kedavra!**_ ” Ron flew sidewise and landed in a heap. He did not move. Harry didn’t know what happened, but Bella continued as Luna jumped into the fray. They exchanged spells, fighting at incredibly close quarters. Luna was undaunted, conjuring shields and sending hexes as good as she got. She ducked at one point, and Neville was hit, knocked to the floor.

Harry saw Bella look away, her face set as she turned back. _I’ve got to do it. I’ve got to try!_ Harry pointed his wand at Luna, hoping he could provide some sort of protection. _Imitabilis morde!_

“ _**Avada Kedavra!**_ ” Luna flew though the air as the spell left Bella’s wand, and for a moment it was quiet. Then her body hit the floor and it was over.

Then Hermione attacked, and Harry moved, trying to get out of the line of fire. He worked his way back to the Execution Chamber, amazed as Hermione drove Bella to the ground. 

“That was for Ron! This is for Luna! _**Crucio!**_ ”

 

“This is for Neville, and his parents…and for Harry.” Harry just watched as Hermione killed. The little know-it-all was far more powerful than anyone knew…except Harry! He could hear Voldemort coming, and had only moments to do what he wanted. He released his invisibility spell and headed for Hermione. _I have to give her some hope. She won’t make it unless I do._

To Hermione, Harry suddenly appeared and headed for the Chamber of Love. She saw him and her look spoke volumes. Her world was destroyed. Ron was dead. Luna was dead. She had killed. She choked out a single word. “Ron,” she gasped. Harry took two seconds and ran to her, looking directly into her eyes.

“Hermione, I’ll take care of Ron. You just have to trust me.” Hermione had no idea what he meant. It made no sense. Ron was dead, and even Harry Potter couldn’t change that. Harry turned and ran to the Chamber of Love, with Voldemort in pursuit. Harry knew only one of them would come out of the room alive. But he was wrong.

Hermione just collapsed on the floor, her tears flowing like a river. Even though Felix was telling her to believe him, she couldn’t. She fell forward onto Ron’s body and cried.

Voldemort saw Harry just as he disappeared through the door. He blasted the door and followed him inside. At the far side of the room, Harry stood waiting. The time had finally come. “Hello, Tom. I suspected I’d end up seeing you tonight.” Harry smiled as he spoke, talking in a very calm and friendly voice.

“What have you done, Potter?”

“Well, nothing really, Tom. I just followed the directions of the prophecy.” Harry knew he was dancing on a very thin rope, but sadistically, he wanted this conversation. It didn’t matter to the outcome, but it mattered to Harry.

“Where are my Horcruxes?” Voldemort demanded, waving his wand in the general direction of Harry.

“Well, let me tell you about that, Tom,” he said, preparing to tell the whole story. Harry held up his hand and raised his fingers as he counted the toll. “The short answer is they’re all gone. The diary is dead, the ring is dead, the Sorting Hat is dead, the Hufflepuff cup is dead.” He looked down at his hand. “Erm…I missed one, didn’t I. Oh, the Slytherin locket. It’s dead too.” He was holding out five digits. “That leaves the Ravenclaw brooch, and that’s you,” he said, now pointing at Voldemort. “And then…well, the original Tom Riddle is dead. That’s all seven.”

He could see the flames rising in Voldemort’s red eyes. Harry knew! And even worse, Voldemort knew he knew.

“Potter, it is long past the time to kill you. You have interfered too many times.” Harry just smiled.

“I think I’ve heard you say that before, Tom. In fact, I found out you said something like that 16 years ago…right after you killed my mother. I was there, you know. I remember. I’ve watched you die once before. No, make that twice…there was the diary.” Voldemort was tired of the conversation. His Horcruxes were gone, and it was time to deal with Potter.

“ _**Crucio!**_ ” Harry saw it coming and silently conjured a shield that easily deflected the spell.

“I think, Tom, before we settle this, that I should help you understand just what’s happened.” Voldemort wasn’t in the mood for conversation.

“ _**Crucio! CRUCIO!**_ ” Harry again conjured a shield without speaking, and the spells continued to deflect, one of them destroying a desk.

“Tom, I want you to know what happened. I know you want to know, so let me tell you, and then we can decide this.”

“What could you possible know that I don’t?” His arrogance was still there, but there was an edge of doubt or fear sliding in. Voldemort was still in shock, finding out that Harry Potter knew everything he’d ever done.

“The prophecy said you wouldn’t be able to kill me, because I had a power you did not know.”

“That’s old stuff, Potter. I admit I misjudged the effect of your mother’s sacrifice, but now her blood runs in my veins too so that’s all over. I even had Ollivander make me a new wand so I don’t have to deal with that again.” Voldemort seemed very proud of himself for solving those problems.

“That’s not enough, Tom. Not nearly enough! Do you know what this room is, Tom?” Voldemort glanced around, and then up. “This is the Chamber of Love.” Voldemort laughed, that high-pitched voice which Harry no longer feared. 

“Don’t give me that rubbish about love, Potter. Dumbledore believed that too, but it is meaningless. Love is nothing compared to the magic I know.”

“You’re wrong, Tom. You’ve always been wrong about that.”

“ _**Crucio!**_ ” Harry just grinned as the spell bounced off again and hit the wall.

The noises in the chamber had captured the interest of almost everyone except those actually within the Execution Chamber. Gradually a small knot of people had gathered outside the door, peering in to see the confrontation. Hermione and Neville knew that Harry was inside with Voldemort and came to the door, placing their other concerns on hold for the moment to help their friend. Remus had carried Tonks back to the front and together they stood behind them. Ginny walked up, and suddenly discovered that Harry was inside. When she looked around, he was no longer beside her. She was confused, but her attention was drawn inside as the confrontation continued.

“Well, Tom. If you’re so powerful…more powerful than love, why don’t you simply destroy it?” Harry pointed at the ball suspended over them. Voldemort glanced up, uncertain what Potter was up to, then quickly looked back, concerned that this was some kind of a trick. “Go ahead, Tom. I won’t try to stop you.” Harry smiled and lowered his wand.

Voldemort had no idea what Harry meant. He didn’t know what the ball was. He didn’t act, so Harry pushed him again.

“That’s love, Tom. This is the Chamber of Love. Would you like me to show you?” Voldemort’s swagger was returning. _If that is love, I can destroy it, and Potter’s power would be gone!_

“ _**Reducto!**_ ” His spell hit the ball and rebounded, flying off into the darkness. “ _**REDUCTO!**_ ” Again the spell flew away, bouncing off from some unseen shield.

“ _**ERADICO!**_ ” The stronger spell did no better, and Voldemort was growing more determined…and desperate.

“ _**CORRUMPO!**_ ” Even this option didn’t work, and he was enraged.

“Having trouble, Tom? It’s only love, Tom.” Voldemort sneered, his face contorted into a mask of hatred.

“I will kill it, and then I will kill you, Potter. _**VULNERO!**_ ” The spell designed to injure did just that, but not as Voldemort intended. The bolt of yellow lightening that flew from his wand rebounded from the ball and struck him in the center of his chest. He was thrown to the ground, disarmed and disabled. Harry hadn’t expected it to happen, but given the resiliency of the ball….

“Now, Tom, before you go, I’m going to show you something. It’s important. You’ll want to know.” Voldemort was lying on the floor, not really hurt but unable to move. His wand was gone, his power to intervene removed.

“The ball is love, Tom,” Harry said as he walked over a little closer. “Here,” he said, and pointed his wand upwards. “Harry Potter.” The ball began to rotate, finding Harry once again and bulging once again.” The blue light in the middle is me, and those threads represent the love that I share with others.” Voldemort didn’t really care, and part of his mind was focused on finding a way to escape, but he was drawn in by his curiosity.

“That green one leads to my fiancée, Tom. Those two big blue ones lead to my two best friends.” As Harry looked, he noticed they were much thicker than before. “The other blue ones lead to my other friends, and the other colours lead to other people.” Voldemort looked, even thought he professed disinterest.

“Now, let me show you something else, Tom.” Harry released the ball and then spoke again. “Tom Riddle.” The ball began to spin, but couldn’t find him. “Lord Voldemort.” Again the ball searched without result. Harry looked down, pointing his wand at the fallen Dark Lord.

“It can’t find you, Tom. It can’t find you because no one loves you, and you love no one. You have turned your back on the entire world, and in turn, the entire world has turned its back on you.” Voldemort just stared, unable to move…unable to comprehend what Harry had just said. “You see, Tom. It’s truly over now, and when you’re gone, no one will care. No one will miss you. No one.”

Harry stepped back, wishing there was another way. Then he raised his wand and spoke.


	51. After the Fall

Harry led the way to the Execution Chamber, his wand raised to direct the charm. He was followed by an entourage of others. As he began to walk down the stone steps, the room went quiet. Nott and his partner, the last remaining active Death Eaters, immediately dropped their wands when they saw what had happened. Remus helped Tonks to a seat and then collected their wands after binding them carefully on a stone bench off to the right. Harry gently set the body of Voldemort down on the table, guiding it to a place beside the remains of the first Voldemort which Nott had never transformed. Then he sat down…both exhilarated and exhausted!

As he sat there, collecting his thoughts, Ginny and Hermione both came over and sat next to him. His put his arms around his friends and simply held them as they waited for the end. A very pale Ginny was stunned, still confused and very uncertain about what she’d seen. Hermione’s face was covered with tear tracks running everywhere through the dust and dirt of the battle. Her expression revealed the sorrow and agony she couldn’t talk about. Neville sat down next to Hermione and leaned against her, seeking comfort from their mutual anguish.

Harry wanted to help them, and knew he soon would, but this must be done first, and the other thing could wait…if it was going to happen at all. Lighthorse and Shacklebolt returned from time to time, bringing in all the living Death Eaters to join their former master, but carefully leaving them bound.

Rufus Scrimgeour and Percy Weasley staggered in, both looking much the worse for wear. Finally all the living were assembled, and Lighthorse began.

“It was announced that there would be an execution this morning. You are all here to witness this event, so there will be no question about what happened.” He was speaking somewhat formally, but it was important, for he wanted every remaining Death Eater to know that their Lord was no longer in business. He was about to continue when Harry interrupted.

“Edward, there is someone else who needs to be here. We need to have this properly reported.” Lighthorse looked at him, uncertain whom he might mean. Harry looked around, not certain where she was. “Rita, would you join us please.” Hermione looked up as Rita Skeeter materialized on a bench near the top. Lighthorse just grinned a little. Scrimgeour, on the other hand, wasn’t remotely impressed. Lighthorse continued.

“It was previously reported that there are several objects to consign to the other side. However, that was intentionally inaccurate. This morning, we have only one object to deal with. Harry, I believe that you need to participate.” Harry stood up. He didn’t want to do it. He knew that technically he wasn’t a killer if he did, but still the distinction was a very fine line. He decided to speak first, just to explain things, perhaps more for himself than the others.

“18 years ago, there was a prophecy. I am now the only person alive who has heard the entire prediction, but it started the chain of events which led us here this morning. I wish it had not happened, for I did not ask to save the world. But, that’s what happened, and what’s done is done.” Then Harry stopped and looked down, looking directly at Lord Voldemort. “For 50 years, you have created a trail of death and destruction unequaled in the magical world, rivaled only by the worst tyrants amongst the muggles. It is time to answer for your deeds, Tom. Do you have any last words?”

For perhaps the first time in his entire life…or lives, Tom Riddle was speechless. Lord Voldemort, the very embodiment of evil, had finally met his match. In the end, it was not a little boy, nor was it a young man not yet graduated. He had been undone by the very thing he denied: the powerful magic of which he knew nothing.

He had known nothing of love, but only because he lived his life determined to be unlovable. He sought absolute solitude: a solitary existence in a world where nearly everyone else craves companionship. He tolerated others only when they could be used as surrogates, and found himself liking them less and less every time they failed to meet his lofty expectations. He sought others only when he could use them to reinforce his feelings of superiority. In the end, he had nothing to say, for no one was there to listen.

The Execution Chamber was quiet, the only sound the gentle rustle of the veil fluttering slightly within the ancient stone arch. For a moment, everyone in the Chamber just looked at it, wondering. For everyone except Voldemort, they wondered where it led. _What **is** on the other side? _For Voldemort, the concerns were more immediate. _What happens when you cross over?_ Whatever the answer, he was about to find out, and for the first time he considered whether he was about to be judged. For the first time, Lord Voldemort was truly afraid, and no amount of bluster would change that.

Harry didn’t want to say any more, and so he just pulled out his wand again. As he had in the Chamber of Love, Harry thought of his first day at Hogwarts…that day that seemed ages ago when Professor Flitwick first invited them to take up their wands and try some magic for real. _Just swish and flick!_

“ _Wingardium Leviosa_.” The living Lord Voldemort slowly rose from the table and at Harry’s direction floated slowly towards the veil. He was able to see, and he could feel the slight breeze as he moved closer. Harry could see the face of fear as he floated closer and closer.

“Good Bye, Tom.” The veil slowly draped over him as he slid into the archway, disappearing from view but not from memory. When he was gone, Harry sat down for a moment and then immediately got up again. He’d made them wait too long, and it was time to find out if he’d been successful.

“Neville, Hermione, Ginny…come with me.” As they all got up, Harry led them up the stone steps and out into the entry hall. He stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by the damage of the fight…the broken doors, the splintered walls, and the bodies. He pulled out his wand and silently uttered a little prayer. _Mom…Dad…Sirius. I tried. Please tell me I did it right_. Then he pointed his wand and spoke.

“ _**Renovo Salus**_.” He waited, watching the mist cocoon Ron once again. _Did it work? Did I beat her spell by enough?_ Hermione couldn’t believe what he was doing. Did Harry know some way to defeat death? With her own eyes she had seen Ron hit with the killing curse, and now Harry was trying to undo that! When the mist cleared, Harry spoke again.

“ _**Ennervate!**_ ” At first nothing happened, and then Ron twitched a little. _**He’s alive!**_ Hermione gasped and ran to his side, falling to the floor, her tears flowing once again. Before anyone else could react, Harry turned to face Luna.

“ _**Renovo Salus**_.” This time, unfortunately, he wasn’t so sure. He’d had a terrible angle, and he wasn’t sure he’d been able to move her enough to clear Bella’s spell. _I don’t know if this worked_. As he waited, he could only hope. Neville was just starting to comprehend.

“ _**Ennervate!**_ ” Nothing happened, and Harry began to think he’d failed. Just as he started to weep, certain she was really dead, Luna moaned. Neville screamed and ran to her, and Harry turned to face Ginny, his face filled with tears. He was so tired…seven years of tired. It was over…really over, and he just wanted to sleep. For a month! In the end, he just sat down, right there on the dirty floor of the entry hall. A very stunned and silent Ginny sat next to him, and he fell over, dropping his head into her lap and crying…tears of joy mixed with tears of sorrow. The doors to every emotion he owned were open, and their collision within his mind was blocking all other traffic…and all conscious thought.

  


Much later, Harry sat at the desk, talking with Rita and trying to remember everything he could. At times, it was confusing since he’d seen some things twice, but from different perspectives. She also interviewed everyone else, getting a very realistic version of the entire night. She had one big advantage…she had flown about, able to see many different parts of the action at nearly the same time. Her description of the fight between Remus and Fenrir Greyback was amazing, watching as the two battled amidst the bodies in the Hall of Prophecy.

Harry cautioned her about what she could and couldn’t report about the Chamber of Love, reminding her of the deal they had struck. In the end, she decided to just omit the discussion about Harry’s mysterious power and simply report everything else. The little bit she omitted wouldn’t matter to anyone else.

As they talked, others began to clean up the remaining loose ends. After clearing the limitations of the floo network and the Anti-Disapparition spell, Lighthorse summoned a veritable army, which quickly arrived and began their work. They arranged for the wounded to be transported to St Mungo’s. Molly and Arthur Weasley arrived and talked briefly with Harry before they left for the hospital, taking Luna, Ron, and Percy with them. Scrimgeour tried twice to take over the management of the situation, but Lighthorse would have none of it. This was a Department of Aurors affair, and would remain that way. 

Theo Arcanum showed up and began a survey of the damage to the department. He was neither surprised nor disappointed. He knew the battle had to happen, and the outcome was far more significant than the material damage, most of which could be easily repaired given enough time. For the second time, he’d lost some prophecy spheres, but down deep inside he knew most of them were no longer relevant anyway. Over 99% of them referred to people who had been dead for hundreds of years. If what they predicted was going to happen, it already had…or hadn’t. In the end, his biggest concern was the brains were on the loose…yet again!

Minerva McGonagall arrived, and spoke briefly with Harry and her students. She reassured them that they could return to school whenever they were ready. Again, someone was mature enough to understand that the outcome was far more important than the mundane day-to-day rules that might need to be…bent a little. She also told Harry to contact her when things were settled down, and she promised to share the news with Dumbledore, assuming he didn’t know already.

 

Eventually, Scrimgeour found himself trying to issue an official statement to the _Prophet_ , but he couldn’t answer many questions, largely because he spent his entire time stunned in the hallway, never getting into the battle until it was completely over. Harry refused to talk to the reporter from the _Prophet_ , leaving them little to report beyond rumors that something had happened. _The Quibbler_ , on the other hand, was preparing to print their first-ever Special Edition, with extra pages and complete coverage. Harry knew everyone would want a copy.

Unknown to Harry, Luna’s father had also decided to create a book, including new stories by Rita detailing everything she could find on Tom Riddle and Harry Potter. She’d spent hours digging through the old school records, some papers she found at the orphanage, and everything else she could lay her hands on. For Harry, she talked with other students, getting a complete and pretty accurate story of his time at Hogwarts. There was even, amazingly enough, an short interview with Petunia Dursley…which turned out to be pretty flattering. Having planned ahead, the book was already printed, simply missing the final chapter that she could now provide.

Finally, after the sun was up, Harry and Ginny headed home. He knew that sleep wasn’t going to come…but he needed to rest. When they arrived, there was already a pile of letters sitting on the table, and more owls arriving regularly. Harry left the window open, put out a bowl of water for the tired birds, and then collapsed on the bed, not even bothering to undress. For the first time in his magical life, he went to sleep without worrying about Voldemort.


	52. Immediate Aftermath

Late Saturday afternoon, Harry came back to life. As he opened his eyes, he found Ginny lying beside him, still sound asleep. Without waking her, he got up and walked into the bathroom. It was time for a shower…a long hot shower. As he undressed, every muscle and bone in his body ached. He knew that others had suffered far more than he did, but he could still feel the affects of the night…the unrelenting stress that had continued for hours. But, he told himself again and again, it was over. _It’s really over! I can think about the future now. I can think about just me…and Ginny._

Slowly the warm water washed away the pain, just as surely as it cleansed the grime and sweat. As he washed his hair, he thought about the things he still needed to do. There weren’t many, but at a couple needed his immediate attention. _But not today!_ Today, he was going to do only those things he wanted to do.

When he finally got out of the shower, Ginny was up and about. They hadn’t talked much about things, partly because he’d been so busy with the interview and other things. The other reason was that Ginny just didn’t understand everything she’d seen, and wasn’t sure how Harry felt about discussing them. Hermione told her something about a Time Turner, but she’d never seen one and didn’t completely understand. She wanted to know things, but they weren’t that important. She knew they’d talk later, and that would be soon enough.

After Ginny cleaned up, they headed out to St Mungo’s. As they came in, the whispers started. The news was out, and Harry Potter was once again the Number One celebrity in the magical world. When they walked through the lobby, everyone stopped talking. As they walked up the stairs holding hands, people stood aside and then stared. Harry knew he’d have to get used to that, and this time, since he no longer had to hide, it was probably going to happen a lot more.

When they reached the fourth floor, they stepped into the hallway…and into a family reunion. Almost every Weasley was there, taking turns to visit with Ron and Percy. Bill and Charlie immediately descended on Harry, offering their congratulations. Harry just smiled and pointed out that he was only one of many who participated. They didn’t buy it, but Ginny understood. She knew Harry would be credited with everything that happened…and she knew he didn’t ask for that. 

Fred and George came over to talk with Ginny, hoping she was okay and asking about what happened. She promised them that they could hear the whole story very soon, and she and Harry would both answer all their questions. After a few minutes, Harry and Ginny broke loose and headed into the ward.

The room was large, but only three beds were occupied. Although they had initially placed Luna on one side and the boys on the other, a few well-placed complaints had resulted with her being moved to the bed next to Ron, with Percy on his other side and there was a large knot of people standing around them.

Hermione was sitting in a chair next to Ron, and Neville occupied another chair by Luna. Molly and Arthur were standing between their sons, and Neville’s grandmother was carrying on a lively conversation with Luna’s father, apparently reminiscing about the good old days.

Molly squealed when she saw Harry and Ginny approaching and ran to hug them both. It was probably over done, but Harry and Ginny both knew her mother well enough to deal with it.

“Ginny, we were so worried. Are you okay?” Ginny just smiled and nodded.

“I’m fine, mother. I’m just fine.” She squeezed Harry’s hand and they shared a little knowing look. Molly turned to face Harry just as Arthur came up. She couldn’t speak, overwhelmed by what had happened in the last 24 hours.

“Harry, I don’t know what to say,” Arthur began, the tears running down his face matching Molly’s. “You’ve done so much for our family. We owe you so much.” He smiled a little. “I think half of us owe our lives to you.” Harry grinned a little. It was an exaggeration…but it wasn’t untrue. Suddenly, Harry had an idea. _I might. I just might. Now might be the right time._ Arthur continued.

“You were there when I was attacked. You helped Ron when he was poisoned. You saved Ginny from the…snake. You saved Ron again tonight.” He looked back over his shoulder. “You brought Percy back to us. How can we ever repay you?” Harry knew it wasn’t a question he was expected to answer, but somehow…maybe there was still a little Felix in his bloodstream…he decided he would. Harry’s face split into a wide grin as he glanced quickly over at Ginny. Then he looked at Hermione. Then he spoke.

"Well, Mr. Weasley,” he said, sounding very formal. “You could let me marry your daughter.”

The entire room went silent…deathly silent. He hadn’t spoken that loudly, but apparently everyone in the room heard him. For a moment, there was no reaction whatsoever. It was as if the conversation had taken a very abrupt right turn, and everyone was trying to recover from the sudden change in routing. Molly’s eyes went wide. Ginny just stared at Harry. Hermione was actually the first to react, her still-dirty face split into a grin. Ron looked over at him in utter disbelief. Everyone else began to process what he’d said, but Arthur was stunned.

He and Molly had discussed it. They both knew it was likely going to happen eventually. They actually had pretty well decided it was okay with them. But now…right here…the actual question was…asked! Molly’s tears redoubled as another joyous thought joined her current collection. She looked at Ginny…at Harry…and then at Arthur.

“Arthur! Are you going to answer him or not?” Molly was being…well…Molly, while Arthur was still completely stunned. He began to nod, not quite able to connect his brain with his mouth. Hermione and Ron began to yell, and Neville and Luna quickly joined them. The entire ward erupted in noise, and the rest of the Weasleys outside came in the door, wondering what had happened. While others explained, Harry turned and reached down the front of Ginny’s jumper, retrieving what he knew was hiding there.

With a grand flourish, he dropped to his knees and faced Ginny, his hand holding the ring just inches from her finger. “Will you marry me, Ginny?” She began to giggle. The whole thing was so…cute! She made him wait for a moment, appearing to consider the proposition before responding. Finally, she nodded, and the cheering began again as he slid the ring onto her finger. He stood up and kissed her, a mite bit more passionately than would be usual in such a public situation. He didn’t care. Neither did she. And neither did anyone else.

Then, after a moment of apparently silent communication, they both turned and looked at Ron. He was involved in a conversation with Neville but stopped dead when he saw them staring at him.

“What?”

“Well….”

“What?”

“You know.”

For the second time, all other conversation in the room died as everyone eyed the exchange between them. What was this about?

“What?” Ron said for the third time, nervously eyeing his friends. Harry just nodded and Ginny’s stare spoke volumes. Ron searched the room, looking for a way out. But there wasn’t one, and Harry and Ginny blocked his only possible escape route.

“I…well….” He stopped, and then looked at them again. “You’re not going to change your mind, are you?” Now everyone looked at Harry, trying to fathom what they were talking about. Clearly only three people knew…but in fact four did. And the fourth was waiting. Finally Ron dropped his shoulders in submission. He was defeated.

“Er…Mom…Dad. Well…a…I…well.” He stopped, not that he had really ever started, and cleared his throat. “Hermione and I have decided we want to get married.” He turned to Hermione, reaching out to take her hand. She would have hopped right onto the bed, but Ron’s condition wasn’t really up to that. The cheering began yet again as she learned over and kissed him. 

Molly and Arthur just hugged as they considered the state of their family. All of them had survived, something they thought could never happen. Percy had returned to them, willing to admit his shortcomings and asking for their forgiveness. And now three of their children were getting married, although it would be a while for Ginny. The ward at St Mungo’s had turned into a place to celebrate life…for everyone present. As everyone talked together, Harry watched Neville and Luna from time to time. They weren’t there yet…but maybe someday.

Eventually, Harry got time to talk with Hermione. She started by kissing him and thanking him again for what he had done…for all of them…and for her and Ron. In a very short time, she had gone from never-married widow to blushing fiancée, and she had Harry to thank for all of it. Harry called Ginny over for a moment and whispered in her ear. Ginny nodded and ran off, returning for a moment before disappearing again. Harry pulled Hermione out into the hallway, leading her to a door a short distance away.

“I’m sorry, Hermione, but you are a mess! You look like you’ve been run over by a bus…a dozen times.” Hermione started to laugh, knowing well how she must look, since she felt like she’d climbed out of a soggy dirt pile. She could accept that kind of statement from Harry, because she knew him that well…and because it was undoubtedly true.

“Hop in there and take a shower. Ginny’s getting you some clothes from the house.” Hermione kissed him again, started to head into the room, and then stopped and kissed him again…another one of those long, tongue-tickling lip-locks that Harry was finding very distracting. She grinned as she backed away and opened the door. Harry was left to wonder.

He headed back into the ward, and thought of something. Quietly he wandered over to Neville’s bed and leaned down to talk to him. “Have you had a chance to talk to your parents, Neville?” He was pretty sure they wouldn’t understand what had happened, but it would probably mean something to Neville, and that was the important thing.

“I was there a little while ago, Harry. My Gran and I went in.”

“How did it go?”

“I’m not sure they understood anything, Harry. But I wanted them to know. I wanted to tell them that Bella is gone. I just wish I’d been the one, Harry.” Harry nodded, but felt he wanted to say something more.

“Neville, I understand, but I think it’s even better that you weren’t.” Neville looked puzzled. “If you killed her, you’d always wonder if it was the right thing to do. Did you only do it because of your parents? Was there another way? Was there a better way? I really wanted to kill Voldemort, but the reason I didn’t was important to me. I wanted him to understand that it wasn’t my decision. All of society decided, and he needed to know that. It wasn’t Harry Potter saying something: it was everyone. It wasn’t personal. I didn’t decide he should die.”

Neville thought about that, and then asked the question he’d always wanted to know. “Harry, it could have been me, couldn’t it?” Harry wasn’t sure how to answer, but given it was over, he decided to be honest. Neville didn’t need protection any more.

“It could have been either of us, Neville. We both met the criteria. But it said that Voldemort would decide…and he picked me. I don’t think we’ll ever know why, but it doesn’t matter any more.” Neville just nodded. It didn’t matter…not any longer.

Several times the Healer assigned to the ward came in, thinking about asking the crowd of people to leave. Finally, in desperation, he explained the situation to the department head, who took one look inside the room and decided that right now the company of friends was the best possible medicine for his charges. Together they allowed the party to run its course, and eventually people began to depart.

Harry and Ginny left together, and Hermione promised to join them, thanking them again for everything. Ginny grabbed the pile of filthy clothes and they headed out. It would be a late dinner, but it had been a long day…eventful and long.

  


After a while, Hermione came in and they sat down together. Dinner was largely a nibble affair. Harry had prepared a whole bunch of finger-food options and they just talked, still trying to decompress from the night they’d all had. It was the time for them to share, for the girls to ask questions, and Harry was ready with answers.

“Harry, I don’t understand the Time Turner thing. What did you do? How come there were two of you?” Ginny had never seen a Time Turner, so Harry pulled it out and showed her. Then he explained what he had done, acknowledging that he had an advantage in the beginning, knowing he had it and might need it.

“Since I knew I had it, and since I thought I might have to use it, I wasn’t surprised when I heard myself cursing Corbie back in the Hall of Prophecy.” He turned to Hermione who was smiling. “However, you’re not supposed to change anything when you go back in time, because it can really cause problems, so after that I wasn’t sure what I should do. If I saw someone fighting, should I jump in? What would happen if I wasn’t supposed to?” Hermione nodded, easily understanding the dilemma. Ginny wasn’t quite so quick to pick up on it.

“How did you know what to do with Ron and Luna?” Even Hermione was interested in his answer to that one.

“Well, I knew when we first saw them that they appeared to be dead. But I just couldn’t stand by and watch that happen. So I decided that I had to find a way to make Bella think she’d killed them, so she wouldn’t attack them again. The spell I used will mimic death, so that was easy enough, but the real problem was the timing. If I hit them too early, she’d change her aim and then they would die. If I was too late, her Killing Curse would get there first.”

Both Hermione and Ginny were amazed. He had cut it so close, and yet it worked out. Ron and Luna would be spending a few days at St Mungo’s before they could return to school, but they were both alive, and that was enough for right now.

“Harry?” Hermione spoke up. “What was that thing in the room…the thing that Voldemort couldn’t destroy.” Harry knew the question was coming, from at least one of them. He had promised Arcanum, but he really wanted to share what he knew. It meant so much to him, and he…well, Arcanum would understand.

“That is love, Hermione. The ball is…well, it’s actually love.” He took a deep breath. “Would you like to go see it?” They both nodded, not sure what they would see, but curious nevertheless. They got up and Harry explained to Hermione where to go. Then he put his arms around Ginny and they headed out.

  


Row 97 was one of the relatively undamaged places in the Hall of Prophecy. A few rows away, there had been one of the fights, and the shelving was still knocked askew here and there. Hermione arrived first, and moved to the main corridor to make room, not sure exactly where Harry might decide to target. He and Ginny arrived right away, and Harry headed out, picking his way carefully through the wreckage on his way to the Hall of Time. There was no one around as they walked along, remembering things from their previous trips up and down this room. Unlike two years ago, there was little damage here, and they just walked through, headed to the entry hall.

Most of the doors had been repaired, and the Chamber of Love was once again sealed from casual viewers. Harry placed his hand on the door and looked directly at Ginny and Hermione. The door opened quickly, and he ushered them inside. The desk was still smashed, but the room was otherwise undamaged. Once inside, the girls looked up, really seeing the massive ball of lights for the first time. Harry led them to one side, and then began.

“The ball shows everyone in the world. Well, it didn’t show Voldemort, but that’s because he was completely disconnected with the world. He didn’t love anyone, and no one loved him. He didn’t believe in love.” Harry actually thought that was rather sad, but he had few feelings of compassion when it came to Tom Riddle. “If you ask for it, the ball will show you love.” The girls were very confused. _How can it show love?_ Harry pointed his wand and spoke quietly. “Ginny Weasley.”

Ginny gasped as she contemplated seeing…herself. _What will it show? How much does it know about me…really?_ The sphere began to rotate, searching for the desired light. When it stopped, the usual bulge began to grow. When it stopped, Harry began to explain.

“The blue light in the center is you. That’s Ginny Weasley.” Ginny and Hermione just stared, just as Harry had the first time he saw himself. “The various threads lead to people you love. The different colours apparently define different relationships.” As the girls looked, Harry continued his description. “The green thread leads to me…your husband.” Ginny giggled at Harry’s use of the word. Hermione just smiled. “The blue threads lead to your friends. The thicker the thread is, the closer you are.” There were many blue threads, and like Harry, she had one of those blue/green combination threads. Harry hadn’t noticed that before.

“The pink threads lead to your parents…at least I think they do.” Hermione was curious.

“Harry, do you have pink threads?” She immediately regretted the question. It was way too personal, and could only serve to remind Harry he didn’t have parents…any more. But he wasn’t remotely bothered.

“No, I don’t. But I have a pair of orange threads that lead into the blackness…into the center. I think that means there is still a loving relationship, but the other end is a person who is dead. I also have a yellow thread that leads into the middle. I can’t tell, but I think that is probably Sirius.” Hermione thought about that. What Harry said made sense.

“Can I see me, Harry?” He smiled. Anyone who came in would want to explore their own relationships, even if they couldn’t learn much from what they saw. He pointed his wand and spoke again.

“Hermione Granger.” The ball retracted, rotated, and then bulged again. This time, Harry was curious about something and looked to see if he was right. Hermione’s light glowed in the center, and the thick green thread was there, undoubtedly leading to Ron. There was the usual mess of blue threads, and a couple of pink ones. There were two others that caught Harry’s attention. _I thought so_. The ball was beginning to make more sense to him, but he wasn’t about to share what he saw.

“Why do you think it won’t it show Voldemort, Harry?” Ginny had heard what he said before, but it still didn’t make sense to her.

“I think that people who do not love, and are not loved simply aren’t here. I don’t know anyone else who is like that, so I…well, I don’t know any other way to see if I’m right.” The girls stood looking up at the sphere. _There’s so many lights, and not one of them loved him._

  


It wasn’t late when they got back, but their sleep cycle was still off kilter. Harry had endured a lot over the last couple of days, and he knew more stressful times were ahead as he tried to put his life together again. Everything he had done in the last year or so had been aimed towards now, and now that “now” had arrived, he had no idea what he was going to do next. Maybe…well, he didn’t know. And he really didn’t care for the moment.

“Ginny, Hermione, I’m sorry but I’m really tired. I’m going to head for bed.” Both of them nodded and he walked off alone. He was just rather washed out…no longer focused as he had been. He could, if he wanted, go in and paint red X’s on everything, but he just couldn’t be bothered. Someday soon, it would be time to dismantle the War Room and use it for something else. That was about the limit of his plans for right now.

Ginny and Hermione talked for short while, bouncing from topic to topic also without direction. They both needed to head back to school, but McGonagall said to take some time, so even that wasn’t a pressing issue. Ginny hugged Hermione and headed for the bedroom, hopping into bed next to Harry and putting her arms around him.

“Hey. Have I told you how proud I am of you?” Harry nodded, quite content to just lie within her embrace. She began to nuzzle his neck, sneaking little kisses around his ear and sometimes blowing little puffs, a habit she had that she knew would elicit some sort of reaction. Harry began to giggle as she combined what she’d been doing with an occasional tickle. Usually Harry was the aggressor between them, but Ginny could play the game too. Tonight, she wanted to play with her husband-to-be, and Harry thought it was a fine idea, even though he was playing hard-to-get.

Things were just starting to get more interesting when there was a knock on the door. Harry called out and Hermione came in, wearing a thick fuzzy bathrobe. She sat down on the end of the bed and looked at her friends.

“Harry, I have a question.” He looked up, a little more attentive. He assumed that something she’d seen fell through the cracks and she hoped for some help understanding it. He was wrong.

“What is it, Hermione?”

“If we asked the ball to show us Harry Potter, what would we see?” Harry wasn’t sure what she meant, so he wasn’t sure how to answer her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’m guessing we’d see a big thick green line that leads to Ginny, right?” Harry nodded. “And I’m guessing we’d see a bunch of blue lines, leading all over the place…to other Gryffindors, to teachers, to…well. lots of people. Right?” Again Harry nodded, not really sure what she wanted to know.

“And you said there were those lines that led into the center…the lines you think go to your parents and to Sirius.” Harry looked at her a little more seriously. _What is she driving at? Where is she going?_

“But there’s a couple other lines too, aren’t there. There’s a couple of big thick lines.” Harry nodded cautiously. “One of them is blue…that one probably goes to Ron, doesn’t it?” Harry knew that was true and he began to sense where she was going with her question. And he didn’t have an answer.

“And there’s one more thick line, isn’t there? It’s mainly a blue line, but part of it is green, isn’t it?” Harry just nodded, starting to consider what she had concluded. When he first saw the line, it meant nothing special, but knowing Hermione, she figured it out. Maybe. “Do you know what that means, Harry? Do you know where that line goes?” Harry just looked at her, wishing he didn’t know, because he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“I do, Hermione,” he said reluctantly.

“You have one of those, Harry. And Ginny has one of those too.” Harry nodded, and Ginny just looked at the two of them. “But Harry, I have two of them. And they’re the same lines, aren’t they?” Harry nodded, thinking he knew what they meant, but uncertain he wanted to say.

“Harry, Ginny. A few days ago you joked with Ron, that if he didn’t want to sleep with me, then I was welcome to join you two.” Ginny began to understand, and Harry tried to decide what to do. “It was just a joke. I know that. But we all know there’s more to it than that, don’t we.” Harry didn’t respond, completely unsure what to say. _Do I tell her I like to shag her? Right her, in front of Ginny. Is the ball revealing the truth? She’s…Hermione! She engaged to my best friend, and I’m engaged to his sister. What do I say?_

Hermione looked at both of them, a little smile on her face. She didn’t seem to be upset about her discovery, but still…. Finally she spoke up again, picking her words very carefully.

“Harry…Ginny…I don’t want to be alone tonight. I want to feel the love that I saw last night, when my friends were willing to die for each other. I want to feel the love that I saw in the ball tonight.” She stopped, looking directly into Harry’s eyes. “I want to be with both of you tonight, and I don’t care what happens.” Ginny started to smile, immediately understanding her feelings. Hermione and Harry had shared almost everything since they first met years ago. They were as close as any two people could be, and Hermione simply wanted to be closer.

Harry wasn’t quite sure. He knew what his own feelings were. He’d felt them rise when she kissed him…down in the drawing room. No, he’d known before that. He’d known back on Christmas morning when she came at him in nothing but her knickers. He’d known then. And Ron didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he said he didn’t mind. _What am I supposed to say?_

“Hermione, I don’t know what to say,” Harry said softly. Harry really didn’t know what to say. There was a beautiful woman sitting on his bed, asking to share it with him, and his wife was sitting beside him. Harry looked at Hermione, and then turned to Ginny.

“Harry,” Ginny said softly, “why don’t you say ‘yes.’”


	53. The Ides of March

It was ides of March, a day steeped in traditions of gloom and foreboding. But this year, it was a day that would always be remembered for other reasons. Throughout the islands of the archipelago, every magical member of society dropped what they were doing and headed to the remote shores of a loch in Scotland and a hillside not far from the fabled Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was there, where almost every such person had been schooled, that the final act of The-Boy-Who-Lived vs. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would play out.

Why Hogwarts? There were many reasons, but only a few were important. The organizers needed a place large enough to hold a crowd, away from the prying eyes of muggles, and locations such as Diagon Alley and Platform 9 ¾ would never suffice. They needed a place where some things could remain after the fact, so a temporary spot, such as that used for the World Cup of Quidditch was also out of the running. They wanted a place that could remain available, a central site accessible to all, at any time. And Hogwarts was as close as they could come to a spot common to everyone.

 

In fact, there was one other reason. It was simple. It was direct. It was easy to understand. And…it made perfect sense to anyone who heard it. That reason was simply that Harry Potter said that’s where he thought it should be, and under the circumstances, and in the absence of any other ideas, that pretty well settled the point. Right now, Harry Potter could pretty well do whatever he wanted, although everyone would agree he hadn’t done anything remotely like that. In fact, most people hadn’t seen much of the Boy-Who-Lived.

Harry kept a pretty low profile, if you could call having your face on the cover of every magical publication known to wizards a “low profile.” He’d allowed others to talk for him, letting _The Quibbler_ become the source of choice for everyone. He had his own copy…thoughtfully autographed by everyone still alive who fought with him that night. On the cover was a picture, which continually showed Lord Voldemort passing through the old stone arch, on his way to the other side. The headline, written in the largest type anyone had ever seen, was simple.

_**It’s Over!** _

The story inside, while a little bit flamboyant, was pretty accurate, and Rita had done a good job, bringing all the information together in a cohesive summary. There were reprints of the original articles in the series, Harry’s interview from years ago, and a complete timeline of events, going back to the beginning. Rita had also scoured the muggle press, finding the articles that reported the muggle deaths along the way…the Riddles, Mrs. Cole, Frank Bryce, and the victims of Peter Pettigrew.

All in all, it represented a fairly accurate summation of the life of Tom Riddle, a sad tale with an unhappy ending, but nevertheless a story that everyone wanted to know. But all of that was now in the past, and Harry was thinking about other things as he sat in Minerva’s office, talking with Dumbledore and preparing to go outside and join the throng on the hillside.

“Harry, I sense you are disappointed,” Dumbledore said, simply observing his former charge. Harry thought for a minute and then nodded. “What is it that troubles you?” Even after two weeks, Harry was still trying to make sense of everything, and some pieces just didn’t fit.

“Professor, I just…well, I wish I could have done more. Yesterday they executed Peter Pettigrew, and….” Harry stopped, knowing that Dumbledore knew his mind.

“Harry, what you accomplished was far more than any of us could have hoped. You saved many, some who would have been written off by others as beyond hope. But you could not save everyone, not because you failed, but because of the choices they made. Peter was weak, but he had many positive role models. Your father and Sirius took him under their wings while he was at school and provided him many opportunities.” Harry thought about that, but the memories of James and Sirius acting…well, immature kept popping into his head.

“But my dad…and Sirius were always….” He didn’t finish the sentence. _Were they always in trouble?_ Dumbledore just smiled again.

“Harry, James and Sirius were young. They were irresponsible. They enjoyed life. Yes, they often broke the rules, and sometimes even mangled them. They had close friends…and they had sworn enemies. But they were never deliberately malicious. When Sirius told Severus he should head down the tunnel, he didn’t want Severus to die. And when your father heard about it, he realized what might happen and immediately moved to make sure it didn’t. That was the kind of person your father was…down deep inside.”

“Peter made his own choices, from everything that was offered to him. He allowed himself to be exploited. You offered him salvation once before, and he still walked away from you. He made the choices that determined his fate, and you can not feel any guilt for that.” Harry knew he was right, but he also knew that it would be a while before he could completely accept it. Then Dumbledore continued.

“Harry, your father saved Severus, his sworn enemy. And, if memory serves me, you have done the same. I think you’ve met his standards well.” Harry just nodded, still uncertain about many things. As they sat together, neither speaking, Minerva came into the office.

“Harry, your guest will be arriving soon.” Harry was thankful for the interruption, for his thoughts were growing too complex and he had things to do today; things that required a clear head. He excused himself and headed out into the castle, glad he would walk the halls again without hiding under his cloak.

After a brief visit to Gryffindor tower, and many little stops to talk with students in the hallways, he arrived in front of the door to Slytherin House. As a first year came out, he stopped her and asked for a favor. She quickly agreed, awed by the fact that Harry Potter had talked to her! She returned a moment later, telling him she had passed the message along, and Harry leaned against the wall to wait. _I don’t know if this is going to work, but…I did the right thing. I know I did._ After a few minutes, Pansy came out. Even though it was Sunday, she was dressed in formal school robes, complete with a scarf and winter cloak. Harry gave her a hug and then they headed off.

It was an odd sight. Harry Potter, the archetypal Gryffindor, walking along the corridors and stairways of Hogwarts, holding hands with Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin! They were both smiling, and privately exchanging little hand squeezes as they walked, headed towards the office of the Headmistress…or at least in that general direction. As they turned a corner, Peeves spotted them and started in.

“Oh Potter, you rotter….” Pansy looked up and responded.

“Stuff it, Peeves, or the Bloody Baron will straighten you out again.” Peeves was about to respond when he realized that the Slytherin Prefect could indeed send His Bloodiness on such a mission. Without another word, he flew off leaving the corridor in peace once again. Pansy turned to look at Harry, and then started laughing. “You can deal with the Dark Lord, Potter, but you still haven’t figured out Peeves.” Harry just laughed. _I miss this place. I really do._ They walked on.

Harry and Pansy entered Minerva’s office. There was no one there. Harry pulled out a chair for her and they waited. Harry was thinking about talking with the Sorting Hat when the fireplace exploded and a wizard stepped out, adjusting his clothing and wiping some soot from his shoes. Harry stood up and walked over to him.

“Hello, Draco. How are you and your mother doing?” Draco smiled.

“Not bad, Potter. It’s still a little different, but I guess it will be, won’t it.” Harry just nodded, and turned to Pansy. She was standing, but clearly uncertain what type of reception she would get. Draco was feeling exactly the same way. Over the years he had treated her terribly, and he knew it. Time and time again, she told him she loved him, but was that still true now, after all the things he’d done.

Harry stood back and watched as they slowly walked towards each other, each looking for signals in the expressions they saw. Finally Draco wrapped his arms around her, and the tears began. They stood together for a moment, and then turned to look at Harry.

“Okay, you two. Come with me,” he said, and led them out of the office and down the steps of the gargoyle. In the hallway below, he reached out to a picture and pulled it aside, exposing the door behind it. “In two hours, the ceremony begins. I expect to see both of you there.” With that he pulled open the door and Pansy walked it. Draco paused, and looked at Harry again.

“Why did you do this, Pot…Harry?” Harry smiled.

“Draco, it’s like I told you. When we were born, even before we were born, others started making choices for us. Both of us. We were sent down a path chosen by others, and neither of us had a say. We ended up on opposite sides only because someone else said we should be, and ironically it was the same person. He’s gone, and now we can make our own choices.” Harry grinned and playfully punched his shoulder. “I may still not like you much, but I don’t think you deserved your fate any more than I deserved mine. What’s done is done, so let’s move on.” With that, Harry giggled a little and pushed Draco through the door. “I think you have a relationship that needs some work, Draco. And don’t be late!”

Harry went back into the office and resumed his conversation with Dumbledore. This time it was more reminiscences than questions and answers. They relived the good times, talked about little things, and just shared as good friends do.

“Harry, I think it is time for you to go.” Dumbledore grinned, with that old twinkle in his eyes yet again. “Your public is waiting, and I don’t think you should deny them your presence.” Harry grinned and nodded. Dumbledore still had a way of making Harry content when dealing with his notoriety. He got up and walked out into the hallway, finding everyone waiting for him. He took Ginny’s hand, and led the way, followed by Ron and Hermione, Neville and Luna, Remus and Tonks, and the entire staff of Hogwarts. Once outside, they met Hagrid and Grawp, and the group began the short hike to the site, enjoying the bright sunlight of a beautiful winter day.

  


They met in a small natural bowl, carved into the hillside by mother nature during the last ice age and left for mankind as a present. Hagrid had spent a week altering the landscape, moving in trees where needed, planting grass and heather where appropriate, and making the other changes necessary. Professor Flitwick had conjured seating for the thousands expected to attend. As he approached, Harry recalled the massive temporary stadium of the World Cup. He knew how comfortable and intimate the place really was, but for today it had to be something different.

There was a small stage at the front, sitting upon a shelf paved with natural stone. There was a low wall behind it, currently hidden under a dark cloth. On the hillside, looking out towards the loch and the stage were the seats, filled with more magical people than Harry had ever seen before. On the stage there were many chairs, some already occupied by people Harry knew well. Edward Lighthorse was there, along with Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody. With Harry leading the way, his little group walked up onto the stage and took their seats.

The audience had been talking loudly before, but the appearance of Harry Potter changed everything. The conversation level went higher as they saw him, but for some reason, the volume went down. Apparently everybody wanted to talk about him, but no one wanted to do so very loudly. Harry found that very funny and all of his friends laughed when he pointed it out. As the audience looked down at them, they looked back, finding and waving to friends and family when they could see them.

Harry was looking around, searching the audience for faces he knew where there. He located Viktor Krum, sitting amongst a bunch of students from Durmstrang. Viktor was no longer in school, but he had been asked to lead a delegation from the school and gladly agreed to do so. Hagrid was sitting with Grawp on one side, and Madam Maxime on the other. Harry missed Hagrid, probably more than any other Hogwarts personality.

Draco was sitting in the front, flanked on one side by Narcissa and holding hands with Pansy on the other. There were others there too, at the specific invitation of Harry Potter. When the time came, he wanted them to hear what he had to say.

Finally it was time, and Minerva McGonagall got up and walked over to the podium to address the crowd. There was a magical microphone in place, and her voice echoed in the hills as she spoke.

“As Headmistress of Hogwarts, I would like to welcome you all. Many of you attended classes here, and it is nice to see everyone again.” She paused, and then spoke again, introducing the next speaker. “I am pleased to introduce the Minister of Magic, Edward Lighthorse III, who will lead the program today.” There was a polite round of applause as Lighthorse got up and began to speak. Not many people knew him yet, and he wasn’t well known outside of the Ministry.

“I would like to thank you all for coming today. I know that many of you have traveled far to be here, and it is fortunate that we are blessed with such outstanding weather.” He quickly shifted his focus. “This is not the time to discuss or recount what has happened, for it is general knowledge that a great burden has been lifted from the magical world. Today, I would like to begin by recognizing those who participated in the confrontation that occurred.”

“As I call your name, place come up to accept your award.” He looked over at Dumbledore’s Army, smiling as he recounted his own thoughts about allowing Harry’s friends to join the fight. _I was wrong. When all was said and done, they carried the day, not the Aurors._

“Nymphadora Tonks.” Tonks got up, still walking a little gingerly on her ankle, and walked to his side. Lighthorse began to read from the citation. “…while lying on the floor, seriously injured, Miss Tonks continued to protect the others, eventually disabling the attacker and saving the life of another. For her outstanding devotion to duty and performance above and beyond expectations, we award the Order of Merlin, First Class.”

There was a loud round of applause and cheers as he handed her the plaque that accompanied the award. Tonks smiled and bowed, really uncomfortable in the spotlight. When she sat down, Remus pulled her over and they shared a kiss. Lighthorse continued, going through the other Aurors one at a time, presenting some awards posthumously to family members. Remus was last, and then Lighthorse stopped and looked over at Harry.

“The next group of awards are far more significant. As you all know, the job of confronting the Dark Lord fell to one man. He was selected while still a child, and I suspect that most all of you have read the story of Harry Potter.” He paused as the entire crowd laughed with him. It was, undoubtedly, the best-known tale in the entire magical world.

“You are probably also aware that Mr. Potter brought with him that night, a most extraordinary group of associates. They are all students here at Hogwarts, unofficially known as Dumbledore’s Army.” There was another round of laughter, especially from the Hogwarts student section. “They volunteered to leave the school and defend the adult world they have yet to formally join.” There were some murmurs in the audience. While it was true that most people knew the story, actually seeing the people who had done such amazing things was different.

“I feel very honored to call them my friends, for they have established a standard of personal duty which few will ever duplicate. They confronted evil directly, and prevailed. They were there by choice, they stood tall, fighting back fearlessly against wizards and witches prepared to kill them without thought.” He stopped and looked over once again, still finding it hard to believe. _They look just like ordinary kids…yet I know they’re not._

“Luna Lovegood from Ravenclaw.” Luna got up, accompanied on her walk by the raucous cheers of the entire school, and Ravenclaw in particular. “Ginny Weasley from Gryffindor.” Now it was Gryffindor’s turn, and they were no quieter. “Neville Longbottom from Gryffindor.” Gryffindor remained standing as they recognized that the rest of the group was all theirs. “Head Girl Hermione Granger, also from Gryffindor.” The noise grew even louder. “Head Boy Ronald Weasley, also from Gryffindor.” Again the hillsides echoed and then some level of calm was restored.

“For service to the magical community, beyond all expectations, we award the Order of Merlin, First Class with Wands to each of you.” The entire crowd rose as one, the applause and cheers echoing from the lake to the castle and back again. One at a time, Lighthorse picked up a plaque and handed it them, shaking hands and privately sharing the thanks of the world. They all retreated to their seats, and Lighthorse looked over at Harry and grinned.

It was months ago they’d first met. Edward was the new head of Aurors, and uncertain how to proceed. Harry was a student, well no longer a student, at Hogwarts and far too young. Yet, over time, they had forged a relationship that worked. They had built a chain of trust…one link at a time. And when the Dark Side pulled with all its might, it was strong enough! Coming from completely different directions, they had met in the middle, and in the process forged something strong enough to survive. And now it was time.

Harry was determined to deal with this. He didn’t want the publicity, but he knew it had to be. He just decided to be himself, and let others deal with what he was or wasn’t. He wasn’t going to change, because he couldn’t. _I can’t be what they think I am, I can only be what…I am._

“Now I would like you to meet a friend of mine…a very good friend of mine! Years ago, when he was only a year old, he was asked to take on a job. He didn’t volunteer. He had no say in it. It wasn’t until he was nearly 15 that he even knew he’d been selected. But this young man, this extraordinary young man, accepted the role that others demanded of him. He agreed to serve. He agreed to fight, knowing that he might die. Very few expected that he could stand up to the Dark Lord where so many others had failed.”

Lighthorse wanted to say so much more. He wanted to share all he knew…about how Harry treated others, about how considerate and humble he was, about…everything. But there was just so much, and he decided not to. Instead, he decided to let Harry speak for himself.

“I like you to meet my friend…Harry Potter.” Harry stood up, and at first the crowd remained silent. Then the Gryffindors stood and began to cheer, and everyone else joined them, standing and clapping and cheering until it seemed likely that all of Scotland would hear. Harry walked over to Edward and stood beside him, just waiting while the noise ran its course. There was nothing to say, so they both remained silent, just smiling and nodding from time to time. Finally, Edward raised his hands and they slowly sat back down, ready to listen again.

“Since the time over a thousand years ago when the Order of Merlin was established, this award has never been given. I think it is appropriate that this young man will receive the first, for his actions are truly that special…that unique. It is my pleasure to award the Order of Merlin, First Class, with Wands AND DIAMONDS to Harry Potter.” The cheers erupted once again, and again they just stood, waiting. Harry glanced at the plaque, not knowing what he’d find.

There was the usual Merlin coat of arms, and the engraved plate on the bottom, identifying the recipient. Underneath the arms were a pair of crossed golden wands, and arrayed in an arc above the arms were seven huge diamonds. _Wow. This thing’s pretty impressive. Wonder what Lockhart will say._ It was typical Harry Potter…not the famous Boy-Who-Lived.

When the crowd finally quieted a bit, Harry stepped up to speak, remembering all the things he had written. He’d worked hard on his speech, getting coaching from Ginny and Hermione as he thought about what to say. In the end, though, they were mostly words, carefully crafted to convey the message he wanted.

“This is not a time for celebration,” he began, and everyone started to listen, for he was saying something they needed to hear.

“While it is true that a great darkness has been lifted, it was not without cost. There are many who are not with us here today. They are gone because we failed to peacefully resolve fundamental issues, which have confronted the magical world since before this school was founded. Just because Voldemort is gone does not mean these problems have gone away.” He paused as the entire crowd gasped at his use of the name. He looked to the side, and then continued.

“The Dark Lord was only able to flourish because we allowed ourselves to forget that we share this world with others. It is true that we possess the power to destroy all of them, but it is equally true that we cannot survive without them.” Again Harry looked over to the side, acknowledging that Hagrid had done everything he had asked. They were there…all of them. Harry began to gesture to the side as he spoke, pointing out who else was there.

“It is time to stop pretending that some people matter and others do not. It is time to recognize people for their abilities, and not for their heritage. It is time to respect all members of our magical world, whether they are elf or giant, witch or wizard, goblin or ghost, centaur or thestral. It is time to bury our differences, and stop burying our friends.”

Everyone looked. The centaurs were there: Bane…Magorian…the entire herd. The Hogwarts ghosts were there, shimmering ethereally in the winter sunlight. The goblins were there, standing next to the house elves of Hogwarts. There were others too, creatures too numerous to mention, and a short ways off was a small herd of unicorns.

“Today, we have come not to celebrate, but to remember. To remember how this began. To remember how terrible it was. To remember our responsibility to see it never happens again.” He paused, letting everyone absorb what he had said. And then he finished.

“Today, we came together to remember. Tomorrow we will continue on, but we can not forget! Along the way, we have lost many people. People on both sides, and people simply caught in the middle. People who could have made great contributions to our world.”

Now he spoke very quietly, drawing everyone into his thoughts. “Today, I came to remember. I came to remember my parents. I came to remember my friends. I came to remember those who would be too easy to forget. I came to remember those whom I never knew.” Abruptly he stopped speaking, and stepped off the stage for a moment, going out to the front row and bringing someone back.

“I came to remember those I didn’t always agree with.” He grinned, and looked at Draco standing beside him. “I came to remember.” He paused again, his eyes filling with tears as his mind wandered, dredging up his memories of those departed. Only the sounds of nature intruded as his words echoed silently through the crowd, bouncing back again and again from the loch and the hills. 

_**I came to remember.** _

“We need a place to remember, and that is why we are here today. Over the centuries, muggles have built many memorials…to the wars they’ve fought…and the people they’ve lost. I think, perhaps, it is time for us to learn from them. The memorials serve a purpose. They give muggles a place to go, a place to focus their memories, an image to restore their resolve. And so it shall be with us.”

“Today, we dedicate such a place. Let us never forget the costs of our intolerance. Let us never forget the damage we have done. Let us never forget. Let us…remember.”

Harry turned and lifted his wand. _Retracto_. Silently he removed the dark cloth, revealing the wall underneath. It was a simple affair, nothing fancy or ornate. Just a low simple wall. But everything necessary was there.

On top, in a shallow stone cauldron in the center burned an eternal flame…the flame of hope. The face of the wall was covered with polished black granite tiles…hundreds of them. Many were plain…unadorned. But many were engraved. In a band across the top were two words…two simple words that expressed everything necessary.

_**Never Again** _

Below, in simple rows, were other engraved stone tiles, each with a name. Only those sitting in the front could read the names, but it was quickly evident that no one had been omitted. Harry turned to face the crowd once again.

“There are many names here. There are names here that may be unfamiliar. They may be muggles whom you never knew. They may be Death Eaters whom you feel deserve their fate. Even the Dark Lord is here.” He heard gasps, but was not surprised.

“Today, I came to remember. And I remember a young Tom Riddle…a wizard who grew up as an orphan…a wizard with extraordinary skills. I remember what happened to him, but I also regret that he could not find a place in our society.”

“The death of Tom Riddle was a loss to all of us. He was also a victim, a young man with tremendous potential, who could perform magic beyond our comprehension. A young man who could have provided great benefit to our world. I am truly sorry he was not able to fulfill that promise.” Harry sat down and said no more.

Finally, Edward Lighthorse stood up, slowly walking to the podium again. He thought about what to say, considering and discarding hundreds of ideas. _There simply isn’t anything more that needs to be said. Harry said it all._ Finally, without speaking, he motioned to the group sitting on the stage. Harry got up, took Ginny’s hand, and led them off, down the mountain trail and back to the castle. Every pair of eyes followed him until he disappeared from view. Then…very slowly…people got up and began to leave. Most took time to walk by the wall, reading the names…and remembering.

  


Hours later, just before sunset, Harry got up from the table in the Great Hall where he had been holding court and walked out into the entry. He was tired, but had one more thing he wanted to do. As he slowly pulled his winter cloak over his robes, Hermione and Minerva came up to talk with him.

“Harry,” Minerva began, “I want you to know how every proud you have made all of us.” Harry just nodded. He knew she meant it, but he’d heard that over and over again today. It was special…but it wasn’t. Then she continued. “If you wish, I would like to have you return to school for the remainder of the year. I would like to have you graduate with your classmates.” Harry considered that for a moment. _I could be back home again. I could see Ginny every day._ He grinned. _I could probably shag Ginny every day._

“I’ve missed a lot of class. Do you think I’d fit in?” Minerva smiled.

“I doubt there’s much problem there, Potter. You’ll just need to buckle down and study harder.” She was grinning, and Harry understood. _She really wants me here. She cares._

“I think that would be a fine idea, Professor.” Harry smiled as he considered his future. At least I’ll have something to do. Then he turned and spoke quietly to Hermione. She nodded and kissed his cheek before he walked out the door. Ginny came out of the Great Hall, looking for him. When she approached, Hermione just took her aside and suggested she let him have this time alone.

  


High on a hillside, Harry Potter sat on a small stone bench and stared at a wall…a wall covered with names. He was lost in his thoughts, dashing randomly from place to place, from time to time.

_James Potter_  
Lily Potter  
Severus Snape  
Sirius Black  
Albus Dumbledore

There were so many names he knew…so many people who had touched his life in some way. As he was thinking, Draco Malfoy walked up quietly and sat beside him. For a long while they sat together silently, each thinking similar things. Finally, Draco broke the silence.

“Do you think they’ll remember, Harry?”

“I don’t know Draco. I hope so.”

“Will you?” Harry nodded, and then turned to look at Draco…his friend Draco.

“Yeah, I will. And so will you.” Harry pointed to Draco’s arm, the arm which still held the Dark Mark. “Just like you, Draco. I’ll remember. I’ll always have a reminder.” Harry grinned. “I’ll always have my scar.”

_finite_


End file.
